CoF - Jypzrose - Speedway

"The cavalry has arrived," Buffy announced when Willow opened the door. Cordy stood next to her, a garment bag slung over her arm. Willow grimaced at that and the large makeup case that Buffy was toting.

"For maximum allurability, absolutely," Buffy said, grabbing her arm and dragging her up the stairs. Cordy followed closely behind, shutting the bedroom door when they got there. She then turned and hung the bag on the hook on the back of the door.

"What?!" Willow exclaimed, starting to get up, only to be held in place by two firm hands. "There will be no taking!" Her face had colored to a bright red, making Buffy scowl because she had been in the process of putting on foundation.

"Willow, calm down. It's only a figure of speech," she said, trying to get her friend's color to return to normal, so she could finish.

"Oh," Willow said, frowning. "Can I see it?" Curiosity overcame her better judgment. She just KNEW it was going to be scandalous.

"Not until your makeup's done," Cordy said, plugging in her curling iron. This one was different than her portable, the barrel large, almost as round as an orange juice can.

"Actually, terrified, would probably be a better word," Willow replied, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, and the butterflies swarming in her stomach.

"You'll be fine," Cordy assured, pulling the clip out of her bright hair, and separating it into sections.

"Hot?" Buffy offered helpfully, much like Willow had during their conversation on Sunday.

"Nyah. Between you and Xander, I am going to scream from all the insecurity issues," Cordy said, rolling her eyes. She wrapped a strand of hair around the iron and held it in place before continuing. "He asked you out, didn't he?"

"Then, he obviously saw something. Just relax, and have a good time tonight. Don't worry about anything else."

"That's easy for you to say," the redhead told her. Buffy exchanged a glance with the prom queen, before going back to working on Willow's eyes.

"You're Cordelia Chase. You know you're beautiful, and why guys want to go out with you."

"No, I don't." Willow twisted around to look at the brunette, and Buffy rose to a standing position. Cordy sighed, and forced Willow to look at Buffy again. "I mean, most of them just want to go out with me because I'm rich or pretty. And they all try to make me feel like it's because I'm so 'special.'" She rolled her eyes, and wrapped another strand around the barrel. "The only one that ever made me believe it was Xander." She shrugged a slim shoulder, and finished the curling.

"That's sad," Willow breathed. Until Cordy had started dating Xander, she and Buffy had just assumed that the prom queen was as shallow and self-absorbed as any other rich person. She sure hadn't done anything to make them feel otherwise, before. But, after the brunettes got together, it was like a whole other person evolved. She'd had no problem blending in with their group, and could banter with Spike for hours. She'd defied her parents, daily, by continuing to see Xander, and she had the amazing ability of being able to cut right to the heart of the matter. But, it was times like these, when she let the vulnerability show, that they really realized how wrong they had been about her.

"Yeah. I guess. It doesn't matter anymore, though," she said, taking a brush to Willow's hair.

"How is Xander? He's been all avoidy the last few days." Buffy asked, waiting until Cordy was done brushing to finish Willow's eyes.

"Well, he's doing better. You know he doesn't really like to admit what happens at home. Plays Mr. Funny Guy to cover it up. But, he's going to be okay. Especially now that he's out of there." Cordy walked around to appraise Buffy's work, nodding in satisfaction.

"How are thing's on the Spike front?" she asked, biting back a smile. Buffy rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep HER smile at bay. After her meltdown about her father on Sunday, he had kissed her softly before he left, not pressuring her. Then, they had spent every night on the phone, often causing Buffy to get the 'do you know what time it is?' glower from her mother. He would sit next to her at lunch, casually touching her in any way possible, an arm around her chair, hand barely touching her shoulder. Or he would casually push a stray strand of hair away from her face. She couldn't say that she didn't like it.

"Only alright?" The two other girls exchanged a look, their expressions telling her they didn't believe her.

"Yeah. I mean, he's sorta still in the doghouse right now with his father until summer starts. It's not like we can do anything together right now."

"Good, we'll all be there. Just to make sure Mark treats you right," Cordy said with a grin. Willow groaned.

"Oh, great. Nothing quite like a group of friends to humiliate you on your first date." She went to drop her face into her hands, only to have them yanked away.

"Well, Ms. Summers, I must say. Excellent job," the brunette praised, going to get the garment bag off the door. Buffy had chosen to sweep a smoky grey over her lids, setting off the clear green of her eyes. Black eyeliner was used to make them seem slightly larger, and an easy hand with the mascara had been applied to lengthen her lashes. A gold toned blush made her skin glow, and her lips were painted a dusky red. Cordelia had only curled the ends of her hair, giving her straight tresses volume. Willow turned and looked at herself in the mirror, not recognizing the girl staring back at her.

"Wow," she sighed, reaching up to touch her hair, and to run a finger over her face.

"Definitely. And if Mark is still able to speak after he sees you in this, then he's gay," Cordelia said with a decisive tone. Willow turned to look at the treasure that had been hiding in the bag. Her eyes widened at the slim column of emerald that the brunette was holding. Before she could reach to it, Buffy was nudging her to pull off her clothes, so she could slip the dress on. After a few minutes, she was turned towards the full length mirror.

"Wow," she said again, wondering who this person was. The shimmery green material clung seductively to the curves she didn't know she had, the hem falling to just above her knee. The top portion of the dress gathered slightly in the middle, to enhance her cleavage. Thick straps clung to her shoulders, holding the whole thing up. A slit was cut up the side, exposing her to mid thigh. Buffy tapped her, and urged her to push her feet into the matching sandals, the straps crossing the top of her foot to hook behind her ankle. After a few minutes of the redhead standing there in stunned silence, Cordy and Buffy started to get a bit nervous.

"She doesn't like it," Cordy said, frowning a little. She had been sure that the dress was killer. And she knew she wasn't wrong. One look at the girl, and any man would be salivating. She had wanted to go shorter, but Buffy stopped her.

"Willow? You okay?" the blonde asked, coming up to place a hand on her friend's shoulder. Willow blinked, and turned to her. A huge smile bloomed across her mouth, making her look breathtaking.

"Okay? I think I'm more than okay. Who is this girl you found?" she said, gesturing towards the mirror. Buffy smiled and turned to look in the mirror herself.

"Anybody you want her to be. This is who you are on the inside, Will. We just enhanced the shell."

"Thanks," Willow said, blinking back tears. Not good looking like a raccoon on your first date.

"What are friends for?" Cordelia replied, flanking her on the other side. The three girls stood, looking at their reflections in the mirror, the night ahead causing a thrum of excitement to fill the air.

"So, how should we play this?" Xander asked, leaning back in his seat. For once, they weren't over at the pool tables, choosing instead to wait for the girls at a table close to the stage. Spike looked at him, brow raised in question, smoke from his cigarette curling around his head.

"Play what?" he asked, straightening his shirt. He had actually put on something that wasn't ripped or cut up, and he hoped Buffy liked it. *Poof,* he scoffed at himself, glancing down at the blue button down shirt and black jeans. He'd even left the duster at home. But that was more because it was hotter than hell inside the club.

"You know. When Mark comes over to take Willow on their date," Xander said, crunching on ice. His wounds from the beating his father had doled out were almost healed. Spike was afraid it would take quite a deal longer to heal the internal ones.

"Oh, you mean, do we act like the cool, mature men we are and say have a nice time? Or give him death glares that say, try anything and we'll rip your lungs out?"

"Yeah, me too." They both grinned, knowing that the girls would rip THEIR lungs out if they did anything to embarrass Willow. They'd just have to wait until they weren't looking.

"What's so funny?" Buffy asked, sliding into the seat next to Spike. Cordelia sidled herself onto Xander's lap, wrapping an arm around his t-shirt clad shoulders.

"Where's Red?" Spike asked, stabbing out his cigarette. Before Buffy could answer, he looked up, and saw a vision in emerald coming their way. Several heads turned as the beauty walked past, and Spike felt shock hit him when he realized it was Willow. He stared, amazed, much like he did the night she emerged from the bathroom. This was different. It was more than the make up and the clothes. Something inside of her had seemed to change, and it made her glow.

She smiled nervously as she sat down, blushing at the looks on Spike's and Xander's faces.

"Well, you've struck them both speechless, Will. I'd say that deserves a plaque," Buffy quipped, slapping Spike on the shoulder.

"Wha? Oh. Sorry to stare, pet. You look bloody amazing." Her smile was large, and she ducked her head a bit.

"Amazing," Xander agreed. This was the girl he had grown up with, who was suddenly. . .grown up.

"Thanks. But they did all the work," she said, waving a hand between the other girls.

"And we take our kudos with appreciation. But, all we provided was the makeup and clothes. You already had the rest," Buffy said with a smile. Then, she punched Spike in the arm. "I'm thirsty," she said with a coy smile. He rolled his eyes.

"So, go get something." A pretty pout replaced her smile, and she had to fight it's reemergence as he sighed.

"Diet coke, please," she answered sweetly. His nose turned up at her choice, but he went to go get it.

"Whipped already. How'd you do that, Buff?" Xander asked, chuckling at his friend. That is, until he saw the look on Cordy's face. She didn't pout, she seduced. She blinked her large, brown eyes and angled her head so her lips nearly brushed his ear, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there.

"Xander," she breathed. "Would you get me a drink?" Xander's eyes widened at the sound of her voice in his ear, and the look in her eyes. He nodded dumbly, getting up when she moved off his lap. They waited until he was out of earshot to start laughing.

"Oh, don't worry. Every guy has a thing he can't resist. Spike's is the pout. Xander's is the breathy, 'Oh you big manly man you' thing. You'll figure out Mark's, and then you'll have him turning into a warm puddle of goo at your feet," Cordy said, still chuckling.

"Do you think we could get past the first date before we start talking about goo?" Willow asked, her face flaming as soon as the last word was out of her mouth. They burst into laughter once more at the unintentional innuendo that had slipped from the redhead's lips.

"Why? You guys keep insisting I do, even though me and Spike haven't even HAD a first date."

"But you've kissed already. Completely different set of rules," Cordy established. Buffy snorted as the guys came back to the table, each holding two drinks. Spike set one down in front of Buffy and Willow, barely allowing the blonde to take a sip before pulling her out of the chair and into his arms. The others watched with fascination as he dipped his head and captured her mouth, cutting off her surprised squeak. Her fingers gripped desperately the smooth material of his shirt, as his tongue swept inside to plunder. Heat exploded through her body, and stars shot off behind her eyes, her limbs turning to jelly as he kissed her senseless. When he released her, she slid bonelessly back into her seat, eyes wide and cloudy.

"Feel up to relieving some of these college kids of their money?" he asked, managing not to let on how the kiss had effected him. He had seen their little burst of giggles, and the looks of female superiority they had given each other, and had felt the need to get a little ground back. The flushed look of Buffy's skin, and the desire raging through her eyes made him feel better. At least he wasn't the only one being left frustrated.

"Sure," Xander said, leaning in to brush a tender kiss across Cordy's lips. The three girls watched them walk away in silence.

"Looks like he's not the only one with a thing that turns him into goo." Willow wagged her eyebrows, chuckling at Buffy's flustered appearance. It took her a minute to collect herself enough so she could speak again.

"No, I guess not," was all she could get out, her eyes still locked on the direction he had walked.

"Oh yeah. Somebody's got it bad," Cordy whispered conspiratorially to Willow. The redhead nodded, eyes turning to the stage when the lights dimmed. A huge smile brightened her face when Mark walked out, his gaze immediately searching her out. He returned her smile when he saw her, then turned to put on his guitar. The crowd hushed as the first chords filled the air.

Mark found himself only half concentrating on the notes he was playing, grateful that he had played these songs so many times, he could probably do them in his sleep. His black eyed gaze kept being drawn back to the woman who was watching him so raptly from the audience. He had noticed her the first night, sitting at the table with the blond that was with her now, wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeved, striped shirt. He had thought her cute then, and had been immediately intrigued. He didn't go for the girls that were obvious. He was extremely picky in who he dated, not liking the groupies, or the ones that thought that he could get them somewhere. Hell, he hadn't gotten HIMSELF anywhere yet, what did they think he could do for them?

Then, she had approached him, blushing prettily, and stammering over her words. She relaxed after a few minutes, and they talked until he had to go back on stage. He found her to be intelligent and sweet, as well as very attractive. He wanted to get to know her better, a part of him feeling as if he already did. He was enough of an Indian to believe in soul mates. And enough of a romantic to think she might be his.

Now, sitting in that sheath of glimmering green, hair slightly curled and eyes mysterious, Mark compared her to a siren. An inner glow seemed to radiate from her, and he found himself draw to it, like a moth to a flame. He only hoped he didn't get burned.

After the second set, Spike and Xander returned to the table, prepared to fulfill their duties as the male protectors of their Willow. It didn't matter to Spike that he had only know her for a couple of months compared to Xander's lifetime. He'd delightfully hurt anybody that treated her in a way that he didn't deem proper.

Buffy and Cordelia rolled their eyes at the vibes the men were giving off, knowing full well what they were up to. Willow, however, was oblivious. She was too busy staring at the stage, as Mark jumped down and started towards them, ignoring the girls that were trying to get his attention. His eyes were only for her as he came to a stop at the table, a rakish grin splitting his face.

"Hi, Willow," he said, his deep voice making her name sound like a caress. She barely suppressed the shiver it induced.

"Hi, Mark," she practically sighed, rising to her feet to move over to him. For an instant, it seemed like they were the only two in the room, and it took Buffy loudly clearing her throat to break them out of it.

"Oh, uhm, Mark Lynch. I would like you to meet my friends. Buffy Summers, Spike Giles, Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase." She quickly made the introductions, only then noticing the looks of menace on the other males' faces. Her eyes widened fractionally, and she begged the girls silently to get them to back off.

"Pleasure," Mark said, taking Buffy's then Cordy's hands in greeting. He suppressed his smile at the protective looks that he was getting from Spike and Xander, glad that Willow had such loyal friends. He then held his hand out to Spike, who took it, then Xander, who did the same.

"So, where are you two off to tonight?" Buffy asked, drawing the attention away from the pigheaded males.

"Wherever Willow wants to go. I'm still a little new to the hot spots around here," Mark replied, glancing over at the redhead.

"Well, you're standing in the biggest one. Sunnydale isn't known for being the entertainment capitol of the world," Cordy said, inconspicuously nudging Xander. He looked at her, the intimidating demeanor dropping immediately.

"That's okay. I'm sure there's something we can do," he smiled at Willow, who blushed again and smiled back.

"We could go see a movie," she said, that really being their only option at this late hour. "Or, we could just stay here, and. . .eat."

"Okay, then." An uncomfortable silence settled over the group, as nobody made a move. Finally, Buffy couldn't take it any more and shook Spike.

"Come on, bleach boy. Walk me home," she said, mouthing 'Call me' to Willow. "Nice meeting you Mark. Hope to see you again soon."

"Me too, Buffy." He gave her a wicked grin, which had her pulse racing. Spike scowled and started to pull her out of the club.

"Well, I think we should call it a night too. Have a good time," Cordy said, pinching Xander to get him moving.

"Yeah, have a good time," he parroted, allowing his girlfriend to direct him away from the table.

"So, uhm. You wanna sit?" she asked, suddenly very nervous. All the empowerment she had felt earlier in the evening draining away now that they were alone.

"Sure. After you," Mark said, following her to sit down. He could tell she was on edge, and he tried to think of something to soothe her. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you." She felt her face flame, and she vaguely wondered if she had broken any world records.

"Don't be nervous, Willow. Just think of me as one of your friends, and things will be fine," he offered, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Yeah, fine. Except I don't have any romantic ideas about my friends." She muttered, knowing too late that he could hear her. She flashed him a nervous smile, before dropping her eyes to the table, looking at the hands she had tightly clasped in front of her. She jumped when his long fingered hand closed over them.

"Well, that's good. I'm the jealous type." She giggled at that, looking up into his eyes, seeing the laughter that danced there. She felt her nerves slip away as she stared into his eyes, and she felt herself smiling easily.

"Let's order. I'm starving," she said with a laugh, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"Now, we wouldn't want that, would we?" The tension was broken, and they settled back to start their date, each very aware of the electricity that flowed around them.

"Could you two have acted anymore like cavemen?" Buffy asked as they turned onto her street.

"I'm sure if we looked really hard, we could have found some clubs to bash you and Cordy over the head with, so we could drag you out of there like the proper Neanderthals we are," Spike returned with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, then glared at him.

"Whatever." They walked in silence for a minute, their movements slowing as they got closer to her house.

"So, Buffy. I was wondering..." he started, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb. "Wanna go out?"

"Don't you think we're a little beyond the whole first date thing? I mean, we've kissed three times already."

"Yeah, about that. . ." he started, only to be cut off by the firm pressing of her mouth against his. She gently teased his lips, giving back some of what he had done to her in the Bronze. With a moan, he tried to deepen it, but she evaded, wanting to take the time to explore him. She brought her hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb lightly playing along the sharp edge of his cheek bone, her tongue delighting in the taste of him.

When she pulled away, she kept her hand on his face, her touch gentle as she stared up at him.

"I want to be with you, Buffy," he told her, emotion making his voice rough. He'd already accepted that he was half in love with her, he just didn't want to fall the rest of the way if she wasn't willing.

"Well, then I guess it's your lucky day. Cause I want to be with you, too." The look of awe that crossed his face staggered her. With a whoop he swept her up into his arms, and kissed her thoroughly underneath the glare of the streetlight, neither caring where they were, or who could see. All that mattered was the play of their mouths across each other's and the feel of their bodies pressed tightly together.

Spike rested his forehead against hers when they pulled apart, his heart racing in his chest.

"So," he started, after he had calmed. "Does this mean we're a 'thing'?" Her chuckle caused him to answer with one of his own.

"Yeah. But, don't let it go to your head. I just really like the way you kiss," she teased, pulling out of his arms and walking the rest of the way to her house. She cast a saucy look over her shoulder once she reached the door. Blowing him another kiss, she quietly slipped inside. Spike stared at the closed door for a long minute, his tongue darting out to slide across his lip, gathering her lingering taste from his lips. A slow smile brightened his features as he turned and started to walk home, whistling softly under his breath.

Chapter 11

Spike looked down at the ancient lawn mower, wondering briefly if he had time to run for his life. When Joyce had said it was old, he hadn't thought she meant it was older than her. With a sigh of resignation, he leaned down and yanked the power chord. He started to curse violently when it wouldn't budge, and tried again. He heard a chuckle over his shoulder and turned to see Dawn standing on the porch, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that seemed to swallow her skinny form.

"What you laughing at, Nibblet?" he asked her, scowling. She didn't answer, just walked over and leaned down to flip a switch on the mower, then yanked the chord herself. It spit, and sputtered, then roared to life. Spike's mouth dropped open and he looked up at her. "How'd you do that?" he yelled over the noise.

"Safety switch," she yelled back, superior smile on her face. He scowled again, and just barely restrained himself from sticking his tongue out at her.

"Right then. Off with you," he told her pointedly, gripping the handle and starting to push. Dawn retreated as far as the porch, settling on the top step to watch. It had been two weeks since school let out, and this was the first time she had seen him without Buffy, who was currently at the mall with Cordy and Willow. She wanted to savor it. She had grudgingly accepted her sister's relationship with the blonde, mainly because she had no choice. It didn't mean she couldn't still harbor secret hopes.

Spike pushed the mower with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. Save for the safety switch snafu, no one would have thought that this was actually the first time he had ever touched one. Not much need for mowers when you lived in a townhouse in London. Xander had given him a crash course, telling him what to do, and to make sure to move any sticks and rocks that were in the way.

He whistled softly as he worked, the sound lost in the noise of the mower, but it at least gave him something to do other than focus on the bone jarring motion of the cutter. His thoughts turned to what they usually did, and he found himself smiling. Buffy. His heart raced nearly every time he thought of her. She had very quickly incorporated herself in his life, and he was loving every minute of it. Not since Dru, his first love, had he felt this happy. Of course, Dru had pretty much stomped on his heart, but he got over it. And Buffy was no Druscilla Cambridge.

Giles adored her, even though he would never say such a thing out loud. But, Spike knew his father, and knew that he was happy with his son's choice.

Since the night of Willow's date, they had been with each other nearly everyday. Except Saturdays. The girls seemed to realize that was his and Xander's night to go out and be guys. They didn't really want to go to the track anyway. The noise, the dust, the smell, it was ambrosia for the males, but the girls nearly cringed at the mention of it. Even Mark had a cursory interest in the sport, knowing enough to get into the conversation when they were together. Music was his first love, but there was something about fast cars that always got a guy's attention.

Buffy was a little. . .unsure, when he first told her about his desire to race. She was afraid of how dangerous it was, and what if he got hurt? He'd just dismissed her concerns, telling her he could get hurt just by crossing the street. She hadn't sounded convinced, but he was so excited, she let it go. He and Xander had been looking at the used car ads, and Spike had seen a car that just screamed race car. It was an old junker, and it was a heavy bastard. But it was affordable, and once it was hollowed out, it would be light enough to compete. He'd called the guy, and talked him into letting him put every cent he and Xander had saved from his overpaid tutoring of Buffy (he'd tried to argue with Joyce over the amount she'd given him, but she would hear nothing of it), and Xander's job, and then making payments. His father had balked at the idea of paying for half of a car that didn't even run, but Spike had managed to convince him. Now, he was taking driver's ed, to earn his licence here in the states, and soon, his dream would be a reality.

He found himself daydreaming of a time in the future, when HE would be in victory lane, his woman and his best friend by his side.

"I don't know, Buffy. I still think it's too short," Willow said, following Buffy into the house. The girls were laden with shopping bags, their bimonthly trip to the mall a success.

"Oh, come on, Will. You have great legs. Show them off. Besides, I bet Mark will like it," she sing songed, chuckling at the blush that crept up her friend's cheeks. Things had been going very well for her and the guitar player, and she was more than a little shocked. He was sweet, and considerate, with a wicked sense of humor, and smart. He had dropped out of high school when he had decided to pursue a career in music, much to his grandmother's dismay. But, it didn't matter. He was street smart, with an uncanny ability to read people.

"I'm sure he will too, if I ever get the nerve to wear it," Willow said, walking into the kitchen. "What's that noise?" she asked, listening to the sick sound of the mower.

"Lawn mower. Keep telling Mom to get a new one, but she won't until this one sputters for the last time," Buffy said with a chuckle, pulling open the refrigerator. She took out the lemonade and went in search of glasses, skirting around Willow who was looking outside.

"Yeah. Do they even mow their lawns in England?" the blonde asked, confusion marring her brow.

"I'm sure they have to Buffy. It doesn't do it itself," Willow answered, swallowing her laugh.

"I guess not," she said, chuckling at her own stupid question. "Thank God," she declared when the noise stopped, looking up towards the heavens with gratitude.

"Oh, my," Willow breathed, drawing Buffy's attention to the window. She looked out curiously, quickly seeing what had so enraptured the other girl's attention. Spike stood, across the lawn next to the gate, back towards them. Apparently, with the heat of the day, he had felt the need to strip off his shirt, exposing his smooth, muscular back to their view.

"Wow," Buffy sighed, breath hitching when he turned around, and started walking back towards the house. Tanned skin moved over sinewy, lean muscle, his gait rivaling a cat's. Broad shoulders gave way to defined pecs, which smoothed down to a rigid stomach. His jeans hung low on his waist, his movement causing them to ride lower, giving the barest glimpse of his hip bone. Buffy felt her mouth go as dry as dust as she watched him, then suddenly she started to salivate as her body responded to the sight of him, half naked and sweaty.

"Oh, my God," Willow exclaimed, feeling as if she were cheating on Mark by ogling her best friend's boyfriend. But, DAMN! She started to wonder if she could get Mark to walk around shirtless, so she could ogle him with as much appreciation.

"Amen," Buffy breathed, staring transfixed at his chest. When her eyes drifted upwards, she found them locked with a smoldering pair of bottomless eyes, the blue scorching her with their heat. A slow smile curled his lip, and she felt a shiver rush through her.

"I think we're busted," Willow said with a chuckle, turning to her friend. Seeing Buffy's state of distraction, she smiled, and waved a hand in front of her friend's eyes. She blinked, quickly coming back to reality, and offered Willow a smile.

"Well, that was an interesting diversion," she said, a shaky laugh coming from her throat.

"Yeah. But I think I need to get out of here. Not so good to be lusting after the man my best friend's panting over." Buffy scowled at that.

"I'm not panting," she denied. Willow merely arched a brow, and started to gather her bags.

"Bye, Will," she called, picking up the lemonade, and pouring a glass. She drained it straight down, the tart, sweet liquid doing nothing to cool her internal heat. The sound of the door opening gave her a jolt, and she turned to see her sister and her boyfriend walk inside, laughing together about something.

"Hey Dawnie. Hi Spike," she said, her voice soft. She leaned up to accept his kiss, eyes drifting closed as he lingered over her mouth. Dawn made a retching noise, causing them to pull apart. "Don't you have something you could be doing right now?" Buffy asked, eyes widening as she tried to get her sister to get a clue. Dawn rolled her eyes, and sighed heavily.

"Fine. I guess I better go get ready. Mom's taking me to a movie tonight." She slid out of the stool, and smiled brightly up at Spike. "Bye Spike. Remember to take the safety off." Then, giggling, she left the kitchen.

"Safety?" Buffy questioned when she had walked out. Spike grimaced, and shook his head.

"S'nothing, luv. Just had a bit of a row with the mower, is all. Dawn gave a hand," was all he told her. Buffy didn't push, seeing as how she was now in the same room with the most delicious torso she had ever seen. Her mind took over and helped her create images of what he might look like WITHOUT the pants as well. "Pet?" His voice broke through her train of thought, and her eyes sprang to his, wide with the knowledge that she had gotten caught.

"What? Did you say something?" She grimaced at the smug look that crossed his face.

"Just asked how the shopping went," he repeated, pouring himself a glass of lemonade. He lifted it to his mouth, drinking deep. When a little slipped out of his mouth, Buffy found herself studiously watching the drop as it traveled down the side of his throat. She had the sudden urge to lick that drop away, and taste the salty sweat of his skin mixed with the sweetness of the lemonade. "See something you like?" he teased, his voice thick. He felt himself react to the way she was looking at him, like he was a treat she desperately wanted to gobble up. And God knew, he wanted to let her. Buffy moved to him so quickly, he almost wasn't prepared for the hungry attack of her mouth. Luckily, he always had great reflexes. Her fingers curled in his slightly damp hair, her body pressing as close to him as was possible through her clothes. His arms snaked around her waist, crushing her to him as he feasted from her lips. She felt the evidence of his need against her stomach, and instead of scaring her, it fueled her, and she forced her tongue more aggressively against his.

He backed her up against the table, his eager hand sliding under her brief top, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach. Gooseflesh pimpled in the way of his caress, and she arched towards him, silently begging him to touch. He tore his mouth away from hers and stared into her eyes as he palmed the silky curve of her breast. Her eyes darkened to emerald, and a breathy 'oh' fell from her kiss swollen lips. The heat from his hand was near unbearable, and she shifted, wanting him to possess her fully. His mouth closed over hers again, his fingers sliding up to tease her hardened nipple. Soft mewling sounds traveled from her mouth to his; lips, tongues and teeth clashing in a fierce battle.

Buffy was lost in the feel of him. So much so, that when he suddenly wasn't there, she cried out from the loss. She looked at him, confusion and hurt flashing through her eyes. His eyes shifted towards the door, and she finally heard the sound of footsteps headed their way. In the second before her mother walked in, he slipped out the back door, not wanting to face Joyce in his obviously aroused state.

"Hi, honey," Joyce said, smiling at her flustered daughter. "What's wrong?" *Nothing. Just you almost walked in on me giving my virginity to Spike. Nothing Big*

"I'm fine. How's things down at the gallery?" Buffy managed to pull off a normal tone, and calmed her breathing before turning to face her mother. Joyce was turned away from her, pulling stuff out of a shopping bag and putting them in a cabinet above her head.

"They're alright. We got a shipment of ancient Egyptian pottery today, and it was not what I had ordered. So, I spent the day on the phone arguing with the clerk at the warehouse it was shipped from," her mother told her, sighing as she turned around. She looked at Buffy, noticing her flushed face and clouded eyes. "You sure you're okay?" A concerned frown touched her brow.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Think I'll go upstairs and lie down for awhile." Buffy didn't wait for her mother to answer and quickly left the kitchen. Shaking her head in confusion, Joyce went back to putting her groceries away, catching a glimpse of Spike in the backyard. With a knowing look, she glanced from him to the doorway where her daughter had disappeared, wondering just how worried she should be.

"Hey, man," Xander said, walking into Spike's bedroom, oblivious to the hurricane that was his room. Spike was sprawled on his bed, arm slung over his forehead, remote clutched in his other hand. He was blindly flipping through channels, his mind too busy playing over the snog fest in Buffy's kitchen to find anything of interest on the telly.

"Hey." Grateful for the distraction, he tossed the remote away and looked at his friend. Xander stood, eyes darting around the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. A reddish tint crept up his neck as Spike looked at him, and it suddenly struck him that he was nervous. "What's up?" he asked, sitting up, eyes concerned. The two boys had become even closer since he had come to live with them, and thankfully, Tony Harris seemed content to let the boy be. He was probably afraid of being sent to jail, once it was revealed just WHY Xander was staying with the Gileses.

"I. . .uhm, I was wondering. Do you have any. . .you know. . .coflsf?" Xander had brought a hand up to his mouth, the last word coming out garbled.

"Wha?" Dark brows drew together as he tried to decipher what he wanted. Xander sighed, rolling his eyes at his own nervousness. This was his best friend, if he couldn't talk to him, who could he talk to?

"Doyouhaveanycondoms?" Spike reared back at the speed in which the question popped out, and he started to chuckle.

"Lord, Xander. I thought something was wrong," he said, pushing off the bed and walking to his dresser. He rooted around in the top drawer, his fingers finally closing around one of the square foil packages he kept there. He turned and held it out, amused at Xander's embarrassment. The brunette stared at it for a minute, then snatched it, turning quickly to make his escape. "Geez, man. You're acting like you've never had sex before," Spike teased, chuckling. It took him a minute to notice that Xander had frozen in his spot, wild brown eyes staring at him. Realization hit Spike, and his own eyes widened to comical proportions. "You've never had sex before?" he asked, incredulous, immediately regretting it when Xander flinched.

"No. Loser, remember? Doesn't exactly make for women lining up at the door," he said, his tone defensive. Spike held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. Just surprised, is all," he explained. Xander sighed, and shook his head with a chuckle.

"Pfht. Whatever," Spike scoffed, flopping back down on his bed. "So, can I assume, since you're requiring the possession of a prophylactic, that you and the fair Cordelia Chase have decided to take your relationship to the next level?" he asked, unwrapping a lollipop and sticking it in his mouth. He'd heeded his father's warning about the smoking in the house. And even though Giles wasn't home, he didn't want to test his father.

Xander danced on the balls of his feet, seeming to consider his answer carefully. Finally, he went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Want to be prepared. You know, don't want to get caught unaware." Spike twirled the pop in his mouth, not faulting the logic. "Can I ask you something?" Xander suddenly seemed shy, and it was a weird thing to see on him.

"What's it like?" Spike's eyes widened again. *How the hell am I supposed to answer that?* he asked himself. Frowning, he thought for a moment before answering.

"Wha? It's hard to explain. It's like, everything in the universe has boiled down just to the two of you. And the heat, and the feel of her silky skin against yours." Spike sighed, memories assailing him. The only difference was, his mind replaced the dark haired girl that he had discovered the joys of lovemaking with, and put Buffy in her place. "There's nothing like it." He crunched the candy in his mouth, smiling slightly. "But, just a suggestion, make sure that you've gotten to know her first."

"That's not what I mean. Well, that too," he amended. "What I mean is. Explore her. Let her tell you what she wants. Makes it better when she's as into it as you. Remember, there's two involved."

"One. And she was very enthusiastic," Spike said with a smirk. Xander snorted and got up.

"Alright, see ya," Spike answered, chuckling. He picked up his remote again, and started flipping, vaguely hearing the front door open, then close a few seconds later. He pulled the lollipop stick out of his mouth, and tossed it in the trash, the channels never stopping their rapid changing. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the soft voice call his name. He turned to look at the vision in his doorway, his entire body responding to her presence.

"Pet?" he gasped, eyes raking over her. She stood, nervously clasping her hands in front of her, wearing a white, cotton tank top and a black mini skirt. Her hair was loose, and hanging in waves around her shoulders. He sat up, tossing the remote aside once more. "I thought you weren't feeling well." That's what Joyce had told him when he had calmed down enough to go inside again. She had then proceeded to make sure he had gone home before getting Dawn ready to go out.

"No, I'm fine. Had to tell her something," she said in a rush, her skin coloring. His lips quirked into a smile.

"I guess so. Wouldn't do to piss off your mum by telling her we what we were doing." She gave a tittering laugh, her cheeks turning even redder.

"Yeah. So not of the good." She took a step into the room, looking down at the floor.

"What's wrong, luv?" he asked, patting the space beside him. She stared at it for a long second, then walked the rest of the way in and sat down.

"I just. . .uhm. I just wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier." Spike felt a slice of panic as he looked at her.

"I just wanted to let you know, that I'm not ready to have sex," she said in a rush, fingers twisting in her lap. A relieved smile bloomed across his face. *Was that all?* he asked himself.

"Okay?" she asked, incredulous. "Okay?" She looked confused. "That's all you have to say, is 'okay'? Aren't you supposed to be trying to convince me otherwise?"

"Why would I do that? You know your own mind. It's a big decision." Spike was thinking that maybe he should hang a sign outside of his door. He hadn't talked about sex this much in one night, ever. While his friends back in London had frequently bragged about their conquests, half of which Spike had doubted were true, he had preferred monogamy. It probably had something to do with the threat of violence his mother had bestowed on him, should he turn into a Don Juan. Sex was a beautiful act meant to be shared between two people that loved each other. Not just the instant gratification of an orgasm. Even from her death bed, she could still keep him in line.

"Angel was a wanker. Don't ever compare me to him again." Spike's eyes had chilled to ice, and his tone had gotten clipped. Buffy huffed and rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I meant," she snapped, anger flaring in her eyes. He saw the confusion behind it, and that's what kept his temper from flaring up to meet hers.

"Listen, pet. There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't matter to me WHEN we do it," he told her, reaching out to take her hand. His thumb started to draw lazy circles in her palm, his touch sending chills up her spine. "Besides," he started, his eyes burning into hers. "There's plenty of other things we can do." His wicked grin stole her breath, and she felt the now familiar heat course through her. They stared at each other, each remembering the all too brief encounter in the kitchen. He watched the colors and emotions swirl in her eyes as she seemed to be trying to come to some decision. He knew when she made it. Confusion was replaced by lust, and nervousness was replaced by something else. Something unidentifiable.

"Show me." A groan erupted from his chest at her soft request, and he pulled her to him. But instead of kissing her like she expected, his lips dipped to the hollow of her throat, his tongue darting out to taste the skin there. She hissed in breath at the feel of his rough, wet tongue on her throat. Her head fell back to give him greater access, and her moan joined his when he nibbled lightly on the curve of her shoulder. Her hands restlessly kneaded the skin of his shoulders, grateful that he wasn't wearing a shirt again. That way, she could feel the strength singing through his body.

His mouth beat a steady path over the skin of her chest, following the path that the neckline of her shirt provided. She arched toward him, seeking the pressure of his lips, trying to urge him further south. One long finger came up to slide the strap of her top down her shoulder, while the other slid up her calf, and along her thigh. Tremors wracked her at the feelings he was drawing out of her, and her fingers clung desperately to him.

"Oh god!" she gasped, when she felt his mouth close over one pebbled nipple. His fingers moved to the other one, doing their best to mimic the actions of his tongue. Buffy felt a wave of heat crash over her, and her panties grew damper with each pass of his tongue over her flesh. Instinctively, she writhed her hips, pressing her mound against his jean clad thigh, seeking friction. Before she realized what was happening, she found herself on her back, her tank top somehow removed from her torso. She vaguely wondered how he did that, before all thought ran away when his mouth went back to work on her breasts. His need was pressed against her thigh, his thigh nestled tightly between her legs.

Her hands flew over his back, nails digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders. He growled against her skin, his own hands sliding over her body, learning every detail. She eagerly responded to him, until she felt his hand start to push up her skirt.

"Sh," he whispered against her skin, raising his eyes up to hers. "We won't do anything you don't want to do. You want to stop. We'll stop." She stared deeply into the cerulean orbs of his eyes, the ache in her center increasing with each second. His tongue darted out to continue it's attentions, his eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes widened at the erotic sight, and her knee seemed to move on it's own accord. She needed this pressure relieved, and she knew that she could trust him to stop if she wanted.

"Please," she breathed, her chest heaving. That was all he needed, his mouth attacked her breast with renewed fervor, and his hand skimmed under her skirt, pushing past her soaking panties to find the treasure underneath. He moaned against her when his searching fingers found her so wet for him. His shaft throbbed almost painfully, but he tramped down on his own desire, wanting to give her the most pleasure possible.

When she felt his fingers gently part her folds, slipping smoothly over her slick flesh, her hips surged up, seeking the release those digits promised. Spike ran wet kisses across her skin, mouth latching eagerly onto the other nipple as his thumb drew lazy circles around her clit. Her breathing became even more ragged when he did this, the pressure building in her stomach with each stroke. Her hips bucked against his hand, and her fingers fisted in his soft, platinum hair, pressing him more firmly against her breast.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt one finger work it's way into her tight opening, the sensation of being filled for the first time making her explode.

"OH GOD!" she screamed, as colors exploded behind her eyes, and the ball of heat in her stomach erupted, sending molten lava flowing through her veins. She surged against him wildly, tremors shaking her frame as her inner muscles clamped around the steadily pumping finger, his thumb drawing her climax out until she collapsed beneath him, gasping.

Her entire body felt like it was floating, and her nerves twitched at the sensations still rippling through her. Spike looked up at her when her trembling ceased, his hand moving from between her thighs. After a moment, she opened her eyes, and saw the Cheshire cat grin he was sporting. She couldn't help but smile back.

"See what I mean, pet? Plenty of other things to do besides the big I." She giggled, raising a hand to trace her thumb over his eyebrow. "You like?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Yes, yes. Like muchly," she purred, stretching lazily. She felt the hard press of his shaft against her, and her eyes widened. "What about you?" she asked, not believing she had forgotten about him. He shrugged a shoulder, unconcerned. He could take care of it later.

"Well, you did. But, isn't that painful?" she asked, her expression suddenly shy.

"Just uncomfortable," he told her, kissing the tip of her nose. His eyes widened when he felt her tiny hand skimming along the edge of his pants. "Pet," he said, reaching down to stop her. But she evaded him, and he felt the button fly of his jeans give with a tug of her hand. "Christ," he panted, when her hot little hand dove inside to grip him. They stared into each other's eyes as her inexperienced hand worked him. She marveled at how soft the skin was, in contrast to the hardness. Like velvet over steel. He was so hard already, that he knew it wouldn't take long. His hips thrust in time to her stokes, his eyes clouding as he started to cum.

"Oh, Jesus. Buffy," he gasped. Buffy broke the eye contact so she could watch in fascination as thick, white spurts of semen shot out to cover the spread between them. She looked at the mess, then back up at him, a shy smile on her lips.

"Needed to change the sheets anyway," he told her, smiling. She laughed at that, the sound music to his ears. When they looked at each other again, they each saw the emotion they felt mirrored back at them. But instead of saying it, they kissed, and started to readjust their clothes. When they were both standing, and Buffy was completely dressed again, he pulled off the sheets, praying that his father didn't notice when he threw them in the wash. When that was done, she helped him put new ones on.

"Walk me home?" she asked, moving into his arms and resting her cheek against his chest.

"Sure, got to get a shirt and my boots, first." Reluctantly, she stepped away, and watched as he looked for a clean one. When he was dressed, they took the other's hand and left the bedroom, each thinking about how much they loved the other.

Chapter 12

Xander and Spike stood proudly next to their new investment. It had taken nearly every dime they had, and almost two months worth of saving, but they got it. The old DeSoto sat outside the Gileses' apartment, looking like the piece of junk it was, but to them, it was beautiful. Cordy, Willow, Mark and Buffy each looked at the old, rusty car, each wondering if their friends had incurred any serious head trauma recently.

"Well, what do yo think?" Xander asked, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's neck.

"You want the truth, or a supportive lie?" Cordy asked, glancing at him. Xander frowned, and walked over to the car.

"Told you they wouldn't see the potential," he muttered, leaning against the hood next to Spike. The blond crushed his cigarette out and pushed away from the hood, making the frame rattle ominously.

"Come on, people. She's a beaut. Once we fix her up, she'll be the fastest thing at the track," he gushed, a dreamy smile curling his lip.

"I don't know, man. She's in some sorry shape," Mark said, releasing Willow's hand to walk around the car. Large rust spots dotted the surface, eroding the once black, now grey paint. A large crack ran the length of the windshield, and there was not a mirror in sight. The grill was damaged, and the trunk was being held closed with twine. The seats inside were ripped, the springs and stuffing showing through. The rear lights had been busted out, and the passenger side headlight was hanging from it's mounting by its wires. Sighing, Mark leaned in the open driver's window and popped the hood, the action startling the brunette still leaning on it.

The Indian's brow arched when he saw the engine. It seemed to be held together with rubber bands and luck. He leaned further in, and saw an old rag stuffed where the oil cap should be.

"You better be some mechanic," he told Xander, reaching for a cigarette. "It needs a whole new engine, not to mention body work. I'd hate to see what shape the heads are in. The wires are corroded, and the belts are dry rotted," he listed, talking around the tube of nicotine in his mouth, smoke curling around his head. He ran a hand through his long hair, amazed that they had actually bought this car.

"I know all this," Xander said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Spike stood on the other side of Mark, not following most of what they said. His job was to drive, not to know what went on under the hood.

"I just hope the block isn't cracked. Cause, you might be able to machine it," Mark told them. The girls stood behind them, wondering when the guys had started talking in code.

"Do you have ANY idea what he just said?" Cordy asked the other two, who slowly shook their heads.

"Not a clue," Buffy replied, looking at the car with trepidation. That death trap was supposedly going to cruise Spike to many a win at the Sunnydale Motor Track. She just didn't see it. It would take them forever just to get the body fixed. And neither of them had the money to put into the internal work it would need. She hated to see him get his hopes up, but she didn't want to be the one to dash them, either.

"You going to put in a roll cage?" Mark asked, walking back to look in the interior.

"Have to. Won't be allowed on the track without it. Figured we'll take out the seats, and put in a bucket for the driver's side. That will take out a lot of weight. Then weld the cage in," Xander replied, following him. Spike turned and walked back to the girls, a smile firmly in place. He didn't care what it took, they were one step closer to their dreams.

"Are you sure about this?" Buffy asked him when he got close. A scowl crossed his face, and she felt sorry for her words.

"Yeah, I am. Between me and Xander, and maybe Mark by the way he's talking, we can get her into shape," he said with sincerity. The other two looked doubtful, but Buffy smiled.

"Okay, then," was all she said, her head tilted to the side. Spike felt his heart clench at how beautiful she looked, with the sunlight glinting off her hair. They had been going steady and strong for the last month, never being away from each other, save when they HAD to go home, or he was mowing lawns. He had ten lawns now, and he overcharged, he knew. But, they paid him so they wouldn't have to do it themselves.

"What are you going to do about the body?" Willow asked, moving to join Mark and Xander at the car.

"Body putty and primer," Xander answered, laughing at her confusion. "Fill in the holes then paint it," he clarified.

"Oh great, you mean this hunk of junk has stolen ALL of our boyfriends?" Cordy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, and glaring at the hunk in question.

"Now, sweety. It hasn't stolen us. And anyway, you guys get the benefit of watching us while we work on it, getting all greasy and sweaty," Xander said with a grin, waggling his eyebrows. Cordy wrinkled her nose at that.

"Will there be shirt removal? Cause there is NO way that I'm going to sit around for hours on end while you three play grease monkey, if there isn't something in it for us." Willow giggled at Cordy's comment, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I think that's only fair," Willow added, blushing when Mark turned and pinned her with his black eyes.

"Well, since you ladies have asked so nicely, I think that a little chest viewing can be arranged," Spike said with a leer. "Afterall, want to keep you birds happy."

"Oh, you are SO full of shit," Buffy said with a laugh. Spike grinned and pulled her into the crook of his arm.

"I gotta go, almost stage time. I know a guy in LA that might be able to help on the parts. I'll give him a call in the morning," Mark said, crushing his cigarette out and taking Willow's hand again.

"See ya," Spike called, releasing Buffy to walk back to the car to lower the hood. Turning, he leaned on it again, regarding the three in front of him. Buffy moved over to him and leaned her back against his chest, wanting to be close to him. "What do you ladies want to do tonight?" he asked, sliding his hand across Buffy's bare stomach. She was wearing one of those half t-shirts, and a pair of white shorts, showing off her gloriously tanned skin. Her hair was nearly as white as his from the hours she had spent sunbathing in her backyard since school let out.

It was hard to believe that the summer was already half over. They had gone up to the lake to watch the fireworks on the 4th, the friends teasing the Brit about losing the war. He'd taken it good naturedly, flipping them all off with a smile. Afterwards, he and Buffy had stolen away to a quiet part of the park, their need to touch each other taking over. She had been amazed when he had brought her to climax through her clothes, her moans stifled by his mouth over hers. He loved touching her, and the feel of her touching him. She was shy and inexperienced, but none of that bothered him. It was enough just to be with her. Not that he didn't want to move to the next step, he just didn't want to pressure her.

"Weeellll," Cordy started, a sly smile sliding over her mouth. Xander looked at his girlfriend, eyes widening at the message shining in her eyes. "My parents are out of town until next week, and tonight is the staff's night off. SO, I was thinking. . ." Cordelia had steadily advanced on Xander, her hands sliding up his arms to link behind his back. "Buffy could call her mom and say she was spending the night at my house, AND," she pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's slack mouth, her intentions clear in her gaze. "You guys could come over. I have a pool that is just begging to be used, and the kitchen is fully stocked." Spike and Buffy watched the display between the two brunettes with amusement. There was no doubt in their minds just what Cordy was getting at. Buffy's heart was thudding at the possibilities of being in a house with Spike, with NO threat of interruption. Fear and excitement warred inside of her, making her breathing ragged. "Sound good?" Cordy finished, casting a glance over her shoulder at the blondes.

"S'alright with me," Spike said, trying to sound nonchalant. Inside, he was thrumming with excitement. Buffy and him, all alone. He knew that as soon as they got there, Cordelia was going to haul Xander upstairs, leaving them to their own devices. His brain happily skidded over each and every possible scenario that could occur between them.

"Yeah," Xander said, his voice coming out as a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Um yeah. That'd be cool."

"Buffy?" Cordelia turned to the other girl, smiling at the stunned expression on her face. Buffy blinked, and worried her lip between her teeth, trying to come to a decision. Spike's hand on her stomach wasn't making her decision any clearer. Finally, she nodded, not daring to look into her boyfriend's eyes, afraid of what she would see. "Cool," the brunette said, whipping out her cell phone and handing it to Buffy. Before she could change her mind, Buffy quickly dialed the number, and smoothly lied to her mother.

Spike whistled, low and impressed when he walked into the foyer of the Chase mansion. Their footsteps were silent as they treaded over a large, Oriental rug, the color of midnight. Large potted plants flanked the front door, and a large, antique writer's deck sat to the right. Two doorways led off the main entrance, and a curved stairway wound up to the second floor. A hall ran beside it, leading to the back of the house. Ornate, wood trim lined the doorways, and cherubs stared down at them from the corners. A quick glimpse through the door on the left showed a dining room, the soft light from the foyer gleaming off the hardwood floors. To the right was the living room, the white furniture plush.

Cordy led them down the hall, past several paintings in ornate frames, to the back of the house. She stopped in front of the french doors that led out to the patio and pool.

"Out there is the pool. There are bathing suits in the pool house, as well as towels. Over there," she waved her hand to the right, "is the kitchen. Help yourselves to whatever you want to eat or drink. Except the alcohol. They mark it," she finished with a roll of her eyes. Spike chuckled, and looked around him. Once, when he was about ten, his mother had drug him on a tour of Buckingham Palace. This place was nowhere near as big, but it was no less ostentatious.

They followed the brunette up the stairs, dazzled by the amount of finery they saw. Spike recognized a great deal of the antiques, seeing as how Rupert loved the damn things. Buffy felt like she had just stepped onto the set of Beverly Hills 90210, half expecting to see Kelly or Donna running through the halls. Or, maybe Dylan. He was the whole reason she had watched the show anyway.

"Here's the guest bedroom. It has it's own bath." Cordy pushed open a door, flipping on a light as she walked inside. Buffy's eyes widened as she took in the room. A large, four poster bed dominated the center, a snowy white comforter draped across it. A mound of pillows sat at the head, artfully arranged. A cedar chest sat at the foot, a square of lace veiled the top. A large, cherry wood dresser sat against the left wall, a vase full of roses on top. An armoire sat across from that, it's dark surface shiny. Next to the dresser was an open door, which Buffy assumed led to the bath. She quickly padded across the thick, blue carpeting to inspect it. She sighed in appreciation at the large, garden tub. Gold fixtures adorned it, and the grey, marble sink. A separate shower sat against the back wall, and the toilet was hidden discreetly behind the door, in a separate alcove.

"I think my whole bedroom would fit in here," she breathed, eyes drinking in every inch of the sparkling clean room. Spike dropped her bag on the bed, as well as his change of clothes, and walked up behind her, nodding in appreciation. After she had called her mother, Cordelia had taken her home so she could get some clothes while the guys talked to Giles. They had told him that they would just crash at Mark's, and Buffy had used the cell to call Willow in Mark's cell. Willow had then called her mother, telling her she was going to Cordy's. Mark was the only one without anybody to answer to. They were going to come over after the last set.

"Want a go at that, luv?" he asked. She blushed and nodded, turning to look at him.

"Definitely. But, swimming first," she said, ducking under his arm and walking back into the room. Cordelia and Xander were still standing in the room, holding hands. Xander looked a little intimidated by his surroundings, and Cordy was amused at her friend's reactions to her house.

"Yep," Buffy answered, rooting through her bag. She looked up at Spike when the door closed, smiling shyly. "Aren't you going to change?"

"Don't have a suit, pet. I'll slip downstairs and see what I can dig up in the pool house," he said with a chuckle. Never in a million years did he think he would know anybody with a pool house. He started towards the door, turning back when she called him.

"What do you want to happen tonight?" she asked, quietly. She knew he wouldn't pressure her, she just wanted to know what he wanted. He smiled at her, and crossed back to her. He cupped her face with his hands, brushing his lips across hers in a barely there kiss.

"Whatever you want," he said, staring deep into her eyes before stepping away again. She watched him as he went out the door, a smile playing across her lips.

A few hours later found the groups of friends sitting around the table by the pool. A wide variety of food lay strewn across it, as well as several soda cans. Mark and Willow had shown up, immediately being ushered into the pool house to change. She had emerged in a blue one piece, the design modest. He had come out wearing a pair of deep green trunks, that were a little too big. Cat calls abounded when they dipped precariously low under his navel. He'd just shook his head, and did a mock bow, before diving into the water. Willow followed close behind.

Cordy and Buffy both had on bikinis, the brunette's red and brief, the blonde's a bright pink, sports number. Xander and Spike had met outside, en route to find a suit. Spike had found a black pair of trunks, with the same problem as Mark's. Xander had dug up a red pair.

They had spent the next hour, playing stupid games, and dunking each other under the water. Mark had proven an elusive target, but with Willow playing decoy, Spike and Xander had finally gotten him under. Hunger soon began to set in, and the guys emerged from the water, to head towards the kitchen. The girls sat in the pool, their minds struck dumb at the sight of three, well muscled, WET men.

"Are we dead?" Willow gasped, watching as Mark ran a hand over his hair to pull out the excess moisture. "Cause, if we are, this is heaven."

"Even if this is Hell, I'll sign up," Cordy sighed, as Xander scrubbed a towel over his chest and arms to dry off.

"Give me a pen," Buffy agreed, nearly salivating at the sight of water sliding off Spike's lean form. The three were talking together, oblivious to the reactions behind them. Then, they had gone into the house, never noticing a thing.

"Cordy, will your parents adopt me?" Buffy asked with a sigh, leaning back in her chair, as she licked her finger clean of chip dust. Spike watched the play of her tongue over the digit with fascination. When she stuck it fully in her mouth and sucked, he nearly groaned, turning away before he embarrassed himself.

"You so don't want to be my parents' kid." Cordy told her, chuckling. "They spend half the time ignoring you, and the other half telling you to mind your station in life." She rolled her eyes, and finished her drink. "Well, I think I'm going to bed. Just leave this stuff for the morning," she said, standing gracefully. When she slid her hand across Xander's shoulders, he got such a look of blind panic, that Spike and Mark barely held back their chuckles.

"Night, guys," Willow and Buffy called, as the brunette couple returned to the house.

"Yeah. Much tired," Willow agreed. The foursome stood, and made their way inside. Four tired bodies made their way up the stairs, mumbling goodnights as they went into their separate rooms.

Xander emerged from Cordy's bathroom, freshly showered, and dressed in only a pair of jeans. He ran a towel over his short hair, glancing around the room for Cordy. She was standing next to her patio doors, looking out at the moon.

"Cordy? What's the matter?" he asked, walking up behind her. With a sigh, she leaned into him, closing her eyes.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how much fun tonight was," she answered, turning in his arms. Xander stared down at her, nerves clawing around in his stomach.

"Cordy, I. . .well, you know, I love you," he stammered, trying to voice his fears. "And, well, I. . .I've never been. . ." She cut him off with a kiss, smiling at him when she pulled away.

"It's okay," she told him, sliding her hands over his bare flesh. She loved the feel of him, the taste of him. He was everything to her, and she wanted to give him everything of her. She had only been with one person, once. It had been thoroughly unpleasant, and she had never done it since. But now, tonight, she wanted to. With him. "I love you, Xander," she whispered, kissing him again. She slipped her tongue inside his lips, coaxing him to play. As the kiss deepened, he let go of his fears, bringing his hands up to bury them in the silk of her hair. He had only dreamed of ever being allowed this close to her, and he wasn't going to fuck it up by being a poof, as Spike would say.

Hands slid over skin as the kiss intensified, heat flowing through their veins like fire. Nerves jumped and senses reeled as they made their way to her bed, never breaking contact with their mouths. He did pull away when the backs of her knees hit the bed. Reaching up, he slid the strap of her nightgown down her shoulder, following it's path with his mouth. She fisted a hand in his hair, gasping at the feel of his tongue on her skin. When the scrap of silk hit the floor, Xander took a moment to drink in the beauty of her, standing before him in only a red lace thong. Her soft curves and sun kissed skin called to him, and he sank to his knees in front of her. She groaned as she watched him capture one rosy nipple in his mouth, and guided his hand to the other one. He reverently palmed the other mound, and ravenously feasted on the first. Cordy threw her head back as desire suffused her body, making her knees weak. Wetness seeped between her legs and she felt a steady throb begin there and emanate out to her entire body. He followed her when she sank bonelessly to the bed, settling comfortably between her thighs. He switched his attentions to her other breast, spurred on by her tiny gasps and moans. She ground her hips against his, crashing his hardness against her, making them both groan.

His lust addled mind barely registered the feel of her fingers reaching between them to fumble with his zipper. It wasn't until her hand closed around him that he pulled back, his eyes black with desire.

"Please, Xander," she gasped, her other hand desperately pushing at the hindrance of his jeans. He pulled away long enough to push them the rest of the way off, as well as removing her thong. He took a minute to drink in the sight of her fully nude body, feeling himself get impossibly harder. Impatiently, she reached for him, and he went willingly. Reaching between their bodies, he positioned himself at her entrance, looking into her eyes as he slowly began to push. "Oh, god," she moaned, as his thick shaft stretched and filled her. Xander moved slowly, wanting to savor every second of this first time. Cordy whimpered beneath him, her sounds urging him to go faster. Only when he was buried to the hilt, did he concede. He played around with his thrusts, finding the pace that was most pleasurable to both of them. Her nails clawed at his shoulders, her lips grazed his jaw.

Spike was right, he thought numbly, feeling himself getting close. This was heaven. Their movements increased to a frenzy, the sounds of bodies meeting and moans of ecstasy filling the air. Xander buried his face in her neck, thrusting three more times. On the final thrust, they cried the other's name, their climaxes slamming through them. They lay trembling in each other's arms, neither realizing that they had forgotten the little silver packet that was tucked carefully in Xander's bag.

Buffy stared at herself in the mirror as she combed her hair. Her heart beat nervously in her chest, and excitement drummed in her stomach. She had made a decision while she was taking a bath. Nothing had ever felt as right with Angel as it did with Spike. He cared about her feelings, her need to wait. She was crazy about him, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. He did everything he could to bring her pleasure, never worried about himself. She wanted him. And tonight, she was going to have him.

Once the decision had been made, she felt none of the mind numbing fear she had felt when it came to Angel. This felt. . .right. She smiled at her reflection, then stood up from the bench, replacing the comb on the vanity. Turning towards the bathroom door, and wearing nothing but a towel, she went back into the bedroom. Spike turned away from the open window, cigarette dangling from his mouth. It dropped to the floor in the same second her towel did, and he quickly bent to retrieve it, nearly burning himself in the process. He managed to get it crushed out without injury, and crossed to the golden goddess before him.

"Buffy?" he questioned, brows drawn together in confusion even as his eyes raked over her, his gaze burning her. *So bloody beautiful* his mind screamed. She smiled softly at him, saying nothing. She took his hand, and led him to the bed, sitting on the edge. She reached trembling fingers up to his belt, and started to undo it. Spike just stood, transfixed while she worked at his pants. It didn't take long before he was just as naked as she was, his lean, hard form illuminated in the soft light from the lamp.

"Spike, I love you," she whispered, casting her eyes down to the floor. He sucked in a breath, and felt his heart nearly explode at her admission. Raising a trembling hand, he cupped her cheek, urging her to look at him. When she did, he leaned down to kiss her, his lips nibbling lightly on hers.

"I love you, Buffy," he told her, all breath leaving his body when she smiled brightly. Their mouths came together again, and she laid back on the bed, pulling him with her. His hard shaft pressed intimately against her slick heat, her readiness for him nearly doing him in. They hadn't done anything more than kiss so far, and already she was sopping. He broke away from her mouth, and evaded her grabbing hands as he skimmed his lips down her body. His tongue blazed a trail of wet heat towards the center of her, making every nerve tingle. She writhed beneath him, her body knowing what it wanted, even if she wasn't so sure. At the first swipe of his tongue across her folds, she nearly launched off the bed. His hands slid under her thighs, holding her in place while he tasted her.

Buffy's fingers fisted in the comforter, her breathing ragged. They had never done this before, and she wondered vaguely why. It felt wonderful. He slid his tongue into her heat, lapping at the juices pooled there, before moving up to circle her clit. Buffy bit her lip to keep from screaming as he attacked her tight bundle of nerves. *OHGODOHGODOHGOD!* her mind screamed for her. Her hips ground against his face, feeling the heat start to expand in her abdomen. She did cry out when it exploded into a thousand points of fire that coursed over her body, burning her from within. She collapsed, helplessly on the bed, tremors racking her slim frame. Spike greedily drank her spendings, not stopping until he was sure he had gotten every last drop. Then, he looked up at her sated face, a slow satisfied grin forming on his mouth.

He then turned and reached for his jeans, digging in his pocket for his little insurance policy. When he had pulled it out, he looked back up at her, meeting her wide, hazel eyes.

"You sure, pet?" he whispered, needing her to be certain this was what she wanted.

She sat up, and took the condom from him, ripping open the packet and handing it back to him. Awe filled his face at the magnitude of what she was giving him, and he had to blink in order to see clearly. When he was sure he was calm again, he pulled out the condom, then rolled it on. She lay back on the bed as he crawled over her, his predatory grace still surprising her. He gripped one of her hands, lacing his fingers through it and raising it above her head. He used his other hand to align himself at her opening. "How you wanna do this, luv?" Her eyes widened when she realized what he was asking. She thought about it for a second, then looked back at him.

"Quick." He nodded, and gripped her other hand, bringing it up to join the first. Then, he leaned down to kiss her, stoking the fires that had dimmed at her apprehension of the pain. He stayed that way, just lazily drawing his tongue around hers, the taste of herself transferring to her mouth. This sparked her arousal anew, and she gently thrust her hips, letting him know she was ready. With one quick thrust, he was in, sliding into her tightness, and tearing through the barrier that was her virginity. Her scream filled his mouth as he came to a stop once he was fully sheathed. He just kept kissing her, letting her body get used to the feel of him inside. Slowly, she released her death grip on his fingers, and her legs drifted up to hook around his waist, settling him even further within her. He pulled away to look at her, slowly pulling out, and moving back in, keeping his thrusts shallow. She stared up into his midnight eyes, seeing the love shining there, and felt tears spring to her eyes. She gingerly started to thrust back, her fingers tightening on his again as the familiar ball of fire built again. Once the initial pain had worn off, she realized he felt wonderful. Like he was made for her.

Once she started to move with him, he sped up a little, lengthening his strokes with each thrust. Soon, they were grinding together at a furious pace. He felt himself start to go, and released one of her hands to slide it between their sweat soaked bodies. Just as he felt his sac tighten, and the first wave hit him, he gently pinched her clit, crashing his mouth over hers once more to swallow her scream, this time of pleasure. She thrust against him harder as wave upon wave of ecstasy swirled around her. Spike met her with equal ferocity, his shaft pulsing deep within her clenching heat. As the final crest fell, they collapsed together on the bed, murmuring softly to each other.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't forget about Mark and Willow, in the last chapter. It just started to run a little long. They will be that annoying couple that we all know. You know, the one. Where they just seem, perfect. Lol. There will probably be three more chapters of the past. After that, anything else that needs to be explained will be done so by flashback, or character explanation. Thanks so much for following me on this adventure. It sure is fun. : )

Chapter 13

Willow sighed contentedly, just happy to be laying in Mark's arms. She knew what was going on in the other rooms, she didn't need to be a psychic to figure it out. The tension that had been swirling around the other two couples had been electric. Not to say that the UST around her and Mark wasn't equally as heady, it was just, different. Since their first date, everything just seemed to fall together for them. It was almost as if their souls had recognized each other, which she never would have said out loud. Too cheesy romance novel sounding. But, it was true. They had known each other two and a half months, and already, there was nothing they didn't know about the other. She knew he was raised by his grandparents after his parents died. He knew that her parents were less than noticing of her. She knew his likes, his wants and his dreams. Just as he knew hers. They talked about anything and everything, realizing pretty quick that they were in love. Then, things had progressed naturally. They had already made love for the first time a week before. She hadn't told Buffy yet, because she didn't want her friend to feel pressured into sleeping with Spike, so she wouldn't be the only one left. Plus, it had been so absolutely amazing and beautiful, that she had wanted to hold it close, and not share it for a while.

So, here they were, lying naked and content in each other's arms. Mark's face was buried in her hair, his hard body spooned behind hers, his thumb lazily brushing the underside of her breast. She looked down at her own hand, which was resting on his wrist, smiling at the contrast of pale against dark. He was so beautiful, his lean, muscular form a work of art. She often teased him that he looked like one those models on the cover of a romance book. He would then scowl, saying that none of them would know what a real Indian was if he got shot in the butt by an arrow.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked, his voice tired. His hand had moved to cover her breast, lightly massaging the nipple.

"Mmm." She sighed, arching her back. "Nothing," she told him, snuggling closer to him. He shifted them, until he was settled between her legs, resting on his forearms to stare down at her. Her hands slid down his shoulders, her fingers playing in the long ends of his hair. "You," she admitted, smiling. He arched a brow, smiling back.

"Me, huh?" He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. "What about me?" Another kiss, this one a little deeper had her brain clouding. She opened her thighs a little wider, allowing him to settle even more firmly against her. She sighed at the feel of his hard, rubber covered, length poking against her entrance. With a slight thrust, he was in, their moans combined into one.

She never answered his question as he began to move inside of her, his thrusts long and deep. Their tongues moved in a slow dance, their hands touched everywhere. His hair tickled the side of her cheek, the silky tresses shielding her from the light of the lamp. Their orgasms built slowly, neither in a rush to get there. He broke the kiss as he felt her start to flutter around him. That, combined with the sound of her breathlessly moaning his name, and the look of love in her eyes sent him over right behind her, and they clung desperately to each other as the tremors overtook them. Once they were calmed, he pulled out of her, mindful of the condom. After he had disposed of it, he returned to the bed, and pulled her against him, lightly kissing her forehead. It wasn't long before they were asleep.

"Alright, crank it," Mark called, looking down at the engine as Spike turned the key. It sputtered once, then flared to life, the roaring sound of the engine nearly deafening. A war whoop filled the air, and Spike climbed out of the car, grinning like a madman. Grease and soot were smeared across their faces and arms. It had taken nearly a month, and the help of Cordy's gold card (used only under the understanding that they would pay her back. Their stipulation, not hers), but it was running. Spike had learned a thing or two about what happened under the hood, and how to communicate it if he had problems. Mark had come through with the parts, and they had worked steadily, spending nearly every waking moment working on it. Xander was in hog heaven, and he rarely went anywhere but home, work, then to the storage shed they were renting to store it. That is, unless Cordy, or one of the other girls, or all three demanded attention. Then, they snapped to and took care of their ladies.

Spike felt a touch of guilt that he was deceiving his father. Rupert had no idea what his intentions were with the car. He just thought Spike had wanted something to drive. However, the blonde knew just what would happen if he was found out. He'd wait, until after he had won a few races, then he would tell him. Spike never doubted that he would win. In his mind, it wasn't even a consideration.

"We did it," Spike said, listening to the hum of the engine. The car wasn't any prettier than it had been. They had fixed the body with putty, and had painted it with black primer. Not the most pleasing thing, but it wasn't wanted for looks. They had ripped out the interior, and had put in the roll cage, as well as the seat and five point harness that Spike would need to keep him safe.

"Yeah. We did. Now, all we got to do is see how she handles," Mark said, slamming the hood closed. Spike grinned wildly, and climbed back behind the wheel. He was newly licensed and ready to burn some rubber. "I'll follow," Mark called, walking to his Mustang. Spike waited until he was behind the wheel, and pulling out, to take off. Wind whipped through the windows as the cars sped through the twilight. Luckily, the main drag out of town was deserted, so Spike was able to open her up. He hit ninety with no problems, the car jetting smoothly up the road. Spike felt like he was flying, and he never wanted the feeling to stop. He took the curve in the road sharply, deftly swerving to keep from plowing into the station wagon on the other side. A tractor trailer was barreling at him, it's horn blaring loudly in the air. Spike's heart was pumping and adrenaline coursed through his veins. At the last second, he swerved back into the right lane, laughing like a loon. He slowed when he saw an embankment, and pulled into it, gravel and dust flying up from the tires. Mark pulled in behind him, his own car skidding to a stop.

"You're a fucking nut!" Mark told him when he climbed out, grinning and pulling out a cigarette as he walked. "How'd she do?" he asked, reaching over Spike to pop the hood.

"Like a dream. She's perfect," the blonde replied, pulling out his own smoke. "Nothing'll touch me." Mark grunted as he looked at the engine, inspecting for leaks or any other problems. Nodding in satisfaction, he stood back up.

"I'd say she's ready," he confirmed, laughing at Spike's kid in the candy store look.

"I'm going to go pick up Willow. Try not to undo everything we've done," Mark told him, crushing out his cigarette and walking back to his car.

"Right. See ya," Spike said, climbing back inside. He needed to go find Xander. He'd had to work that night, and what better way to let him know about the car than to pick him up?

With a laugh and a roar of the engine, the big black car sped off into the night.

"Why in God's name would we want to go the track?" Buffy asked, looking at Spike, who was sitting in her living room. Dawn was sprawled out on the floor, head propped up in her hand as she listened to the older kids talk. Xander and Cordy were there, but Willow and Mark were at the Bronze, as he was scheduled to play for the back to school party the club was having. The other four were heading there after Joyce got home. Spike looked at his girlfriend, who was standing with her arms crossed over the floral peasant blouse she was wearing. Her short, brown skirt skimmed the middle of her thighs, and she had on a pair of brown suede boots that hugged her calf to her thigh. Her golden hair was twisted up in a knot, large hoops adorned her ears. He thought she looked delicious.

"Tomorrow? You guys just got the thing running, and you already want to take it to the track?" she asked, a look of concern crossing her face. She still wasn't sure about this. She had watched a race or two with them when they were just hanging out at Giles', and her heart had leapt into her throat when a wreck would happen.

"S'good a time as any. Need to see what she'll do," he answered, crunching his lollipop. Xander and Cordy watched the discussion go on like spectators at a tennis match, eyes shooting between them as they spoke.

"So, you want me there, for what? Moral support?" Spike barely managed not to roll his eyes. Barely. Things had seemed to get strained between them as the car neared completion, and he didn't feel like fighting right now.

"Yeah, actually." Buffy sighed, then smiled. She loved him, and it was her duty to support him. Even if she thought he was being an idiot. Anyway, he might do it and decide he hated it.

"Alright. I'll be there. You going?" she asked Cordy. Cordy blinked and looked at her, a faraway expression on her face.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'll be there. Need to see what my investment will do," she answered, smiling. She looked tired, and her voice sounded off. Xander looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head.

"Yeah, tomorrow Sunnydale Motor Track, next month, Talladega," Spike exclaimed with a chuckle. Buffy rolled her eyes, and went to sit next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning her head on his chest.

"Always," he assured, curling his arm around her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, the scent of vanilla tickling his nose. He relished the feel of her in his arms, something that hadn't occurred too much over the last month. But, he promised himself he would make up for it, especially with school getting ready to start. He would be back under house arrest, until after the end of the first quarter. Then Rupert would evaluate the situation again. Didn't matter that he had pulled off his usual high marks at the end of the last year, as well as pass those stupid tests Snyder had insisted on. Giles wasn't taking any chances.

"Bronzing," Buffy answered, standing and pulling Spike with her. The other couple stood as well.

"Night, Nibblet, Mrs. Summers," Spike called, flashing a smile before disappearing out the door. When it shut behind them, Dawn looked at her mother, concern wrinkling her brow.

"What's the matter, Mom?" she asked, pushing up from the floor, and walking over to her. Joyce paused in rubbing her temple to smile down at her.

"Nothing honey. Just a little headache. Have you eaten?" Dawn shook her head. "Go get your shoes on. We'll go get some pizza." Dawn squealed and raced up the stairs. They NEVER went OUT for pizza. She knew they would go to Tony's, the best pizza in town, which didn't deliver. Joyce laughed as she watched the excited child take off, and absently began rubbing her temple again.

Buffy sat nervously next to Willow and Cordy, her hazel eyes scanning the two rows of cars on the track. They were waiting for the race to begin and already she felt sick. Xander was down by the car, talking to Spike and making sure everything was set to go. They watched as he pounded a hand on the door, gave Spike a wave and started towards the pits. They had gotten there early in order to get good seats, and they were in the third row. The smell of oil and rubber swirled around them, adding to the sick feeling that she already had. Willow sat beside her, studying everything around her. Mark wasn't there. The band had a gig in LA, and she hadn't been able to go, so she came with her friends. Cordy sat on the other side, eyes distant.

"When does this thing start?" Buffy demanded. *So I know when it will be over.* Horrible images of cars flipping and catching on fire were giddily playing through her mind, and she wasn't sure how much of this she could take.

"I guess in a couple of minutes," Willow answered. She was amazed that so many people were there, hardly a seat was empty. Who knew that racing was so popular in Sunnydale?

"Nervous?" the redhead asked, smiling. It faded when she saw just how terrified her friend was. "Hey, it's okay," she soothed. Buffy snorted.

"Think positive. I'm sure everything will be alright. Right, Cordy?" They both looked at the brunette, seeing that she wasn't paying them any attention. "Cordy?"

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked her. A flash of panic shot through her brown orbs, but she suppressed it quickly.

"Yeah. Fine," she answered, hoping they didn't press. "Look, the race is starting." All eyes turned to the track, as the sound of reving engines reached deafening proportions. Cordy thanked God for the distraction.

Buffy gnawed on a nail, fighting the urge to close her eyes as they took off around the half mile track. They watched as Spike steadily, and ruthlessly cut his way through the pack. When he reached the front, they were on their feet, screaming until they were hoarse. Buffy's heart slammed into her chest when a Thunderbird slammed into his back end, nearly sending him into a spin. He kept control though, straightening and slamming on the gas to pull ahead. She lost count of how many laps they had done, too busy watching the action on the field. He had lost the lead once, when he blew out a tire. Once he was back out though, he wasted no time getting back up to the front, rubbing paint with the T bird that had bumped him earlier.

By the time the race ended, and Spike had taken the checkered flag, Buffy was jumping up and down, hands clutching onto her friends, who were likewise occupied. When he pulled into victory lane, they jetted out of the stands, to make their way down there. Xander was already there, and the two males were embracing, idiot grins on their faces. When he saw Buffy rushing towards him, Spike let go of his friend, and caught her as she flew into his arms, spinning her around. When they came to a stop, he kissed her, passion and exhilaration thrumming in his veins. She held on as he tried to devour her, her own adrenaline pumping.

He tore away form her with a war whoop, oblivious to everybody around him, save her. It took the owner of the track several tries to get Spike's attention and give him his prize money. Spike accepted it gratefully, swinging Buffy around again, both of them laughing.

"So, where to now? The Bronze to celebrate?" Xander suggested, his silly grin still firmly in place. Cordy held onto his hand, smiling a real smile for the first time in the last few days.

"Congratulations, Speedy," she teased, green eyes dancing. "Mark wanted to be here," she offered apologetically. Spike waved her off.

"Let's go celebrate!" Xander exclaimed, pulling Cordy with him toward the parking lot. Willow followed, and Spike reluctantly let Buffy go. He watched her walk away for a moment, then slid into the DeSoto, it's tough exterior sporting a few more dents, but it's engine still purring happily.

Every Saturday night, Spike would race, more often than not finishing in the top five. As the weeks progressed, Spike found himself as a sort of celebrity around town, not able to go anywhere without somebody knowing who he was. Xander and Buffy had the same problem. Spike ate it up, while it made Buffy somewhat uncomfortable. And she really wasn't impressed with the new found interest of the female fans. She'd had to threaten a few with some interesting displays of violence before they would get the clue.

Of course, the really funny part, was when Giles found out. Spike hadn't told him yet, stalling for as long as he could. Then, one day, a regular at the track had come into the gallery. She had seen Giles' nameplate on the desk and had asked him if he was related to Spike. He had said he was, thoroughly not prepared for what he heard. She gave a him a full regalia of his son's accomplishments, causing shock to permeate his being. He had then gone home, telling Joyce he needed to take care of something.

When he had arrived at the house, he encountered the two boys doing their homework, laughing and carrying on as boys do. Spike had been surprised to see him, and even more surprised to see the anger simmering in his father's eyes. He knew he was in for it when Rupert asked Xander to excuse them.

The brunette was no sooner out of the room when Giles reared on his son. He wanted to know just what in the bloody hell did he think he was doing? Spike had replied in kind, and the two Brits got into the first real fight they had ever had. Xander, who had been trying not to listen in Spike's room, had been afraid that it was going to come to blows at one point.

Then, it had quieted down, and he had ventured out into the living room to see them, sitting on opposite sides of the room, angry glowers on both of their faces. They had come to an impasse. Giles had realized that he couldn't tell the boy what to do, not with his nineteenth birthday coming in a month. Not to mention, that Spike was following his father's rules to the letter, so he couldn't fault him there. He would have loved to be able to say that it was the fact that Spike had deceived him that had gotten him so angry. But, in reality, it was the danger his son was willingly putting himself in that terrified him.

Spike had realized that his father was only concerned about him, and the angry words that had been flung at him were borne of that concern. In the end, it was a draw, and all they could do was agree to disagree. If this was what Spike wanted to do with his life, Giles couldn't very well tell him no. However, that didn't mean that he had to like it, or watch. Or help pay for it.

Joyce had been equally shocked when she found out, lecturing the boys about safety and cars not being toys. They had dutifully listened, then went on about their business. Dawn had started to go to the track with them, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. It also gave her primo bonding time with the teenagers. Buffy went through the combination of fear and excitement every time he strapped into the car. Her heart would race, then stop when he would come precariously close to wrecking. But, somehow, he managed to pull himself back before anything disastrous happened.

Buffy watched all this with amusement. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement, and feed off of it. He and Xander were as giddy as kids at Christmas, drawing the rest of them in. Except Cordy. She had been getting more and more quiet as the weeks went on. Whenever Xander looked at her, she would manage to put on a bright smile, but her usually vibrant manner seemed stilted. Several times, the girls had tried to get her to talk, but she would say that nothing was wrong, then change the subject. They let her, since she didn't look ill. However, they made a pact, that if the brunette didn't snap out of it soon, they would corner her, and not give her a chance to duck out of it.

Chapter 14

Cordelia Chase stood in front of the sink in the Gileses' bathroom, thinking it odd how normal she looked. Her sleek, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her makeup covering the evidence of two months of sleepless nights. Her slim frame was swathed in its usual designer fare, the white shorts only a little snug. The only outward sign that anything was wrong were the tears shining in her dark eyes, the ones that she refused to let fall.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the stick on the counter, the required three minutes having passed. Her eyes drifted closed at the confirmation of her suspicions. She couldn't really say she was surprised. She'd known, after the first month went by, what was wrong. But she just kept telling herself it was the stress of starting her senior year, of her parents continued disapproval of her relationship with Xander that had caused her to skip a month. She even convinced herself of it, briefly. Xander had been oblivious, as guys often are about such things, and had accepted her excuses when she said nothing was wrong. But now, everything was wrong. Or right, depending on your point of view.

In between her bouts of denial, she had spent a great deal of time trying to decide what to do, if she was right. Abortion had of course, been her first thought. It didn't take her long to decide that wasn't for her. It wasn't that she objected to a woman's right to choose. It was the fact that the thought in regards to her, made her ill. That left only two other options. Adoption. She couldn't see carrying a child for nine months, then handing it over to some other person to raise, no matter how deserving the couple might be. Especially when money was not an issue for her. Yet. That left only one option. Keeping it. Who knew how her parents would react to that. She expected the worst, and hoped for the best.

Her biggest fear was Xander's reaction. She knew that this was how his parents had gotten together. And to say he had issues was an understatement. What if he freaked? What if he ran out on her? What if he didn't want anything to do with it?

Cordelia lifted an elegant hand and rubbed her temple, trying to ease the headache that was forming. Sighing heavily, she looked back at her reflection. She would tell Xander first, then her parents, hopefully with him by her side.

"Cordy?!" The sound of Xander's voice through the door made her jump. They were supposed to go watch Mark play, since the race was rained out. She quickly shoved the test back in the box, and threw it in the trash, arranging it so it couldn't be seen.

"Coming," she called, taking several deep breaths. Tomorrow was soon enough to tell him. Tonight would be for fun. Pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door to face her oblivious boyfriend.

Rupert walked into the bathroom, opening the medicine chest in search of some aspirin. *Time to get my eyes checked,* he thought to himself. It was starting to strain his eyes to read, and he was starting to get headaches more often now. He pulled out the bottle, cursing softly about child proof caps. When he finally got it off, it slipped from his hand, and bounced off the edge of the sink to land in the trash.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, kneeling down to hunt for it. When his hand encountered the blue and white box, he stared at it quizzically for a moment, shock widening his eyes when he realized what it was. His mind spun into overdrive at the implications, and he stumbled back, the motion causing the stick inside to fall out. "Dear lord." He prayed, hoping he was wrong. Spike would know better, wouldn't he? Especially after what had happened with Dru. Rosemary had taken it as a personal mission to make sure that he understood the need for birth control. How could his son be so careless?

Placing the stick gingerly into the box, he stared down at it for a long minute, trying to decide what to do. With a sigh, he stood, the forgotten bottle of aspirin still clutched in his hand. He then left the bathroom, taking the box with him, and walking to the phone. Dialing quickly, he waited for the call to be picked up.

"Dawn? This is Mr. Giles. May I speak to your mother, please?" he asked, amazed at how calm his voice sounded.

"Sure. Hold on. MOOOMM!" Rupert had to pull the phone away from his ear when she screeched. He then heard the clatter of the phone as it was put down, followed a few seconds later by the sound of it being picked up.

Spike and Xander, followed by the girls, walked into the Gileses' apartment, laughing amongst themselves. There were still about two hours left before curfew, and they were going to hang out and watch a movie before Buffy had to be home. It wasn't very often that they got to just be with each other anymore, with school, and Spike's racing, so this was an unexpected treat. When they walked through the door, they found themselves faced with two extremely worried and angry parents, as well as a tired looking Dawn. A box sat in the middle of the coffee table. One that looked extremely familiar to Cordelia.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Buffy asked, walking in to stand next to the couch. Her mother eyeballed the two teenagers, seeing the looks of confusion on their faces. She gingerly reached out and picked up the box, her heart squeezing. Xander's eyes bugged out when he saw what it was, his gaze shooting to his two friends. Cordelia worried her lip between her teeth, her panicked mind trying to decide what to do.

"Dad?" Spike questioned, moving to stand next to Buffy. Dawn had a look of 'boy, are you guys in trouble' on her young face.

"Buffy, Spike. Your father found this in the trash in his bathroom. I want to know what it means," Joyce demanded. Buffy and Spike looked at the EPT box like it was a snake.

"I dunno." Spike turned to look at Buffy, trying to think of a time during the day when she could have snuck off to take it. Her eyes grew wide at the look he was giving her.

"It would seem that my son has forgotten a few things that he has been taught. I assure you, that he will be responsible," Giles assured.

"Wait a bloody minute. She hasn't even answered yet. Let's not jump the gun," Spike said, glaring at his father.

"Of course it's not MINE. We used. . ." She shut her eyes and got a look of pain on her face. It was one thing for her mother to accuse her of having sex and being pregnant. It was another to actually say it out loud.

"Buffy, we talked about this." Joyce sounded so disappointed in her daughter right then, that Buffy's heart nearly broke.

"Spike, I expected so much more form you. After Druscilla, I expected you to use better judgement," Giles reproached, talking over the blonde girl.

"Not fair, Dad. One, Dru lied to me. Two, Buffy says it's not hers. Why don't you listen?" Spike snapped, glaring at his father.

"Then, who else's could it be?" Rupert ventured, looking at his son. Cordy cleared her throat at that moment, drawing all attention to her. She looked around the room, feeling her face flame. She couldn't bare to look at Xander as she started to speak.

"It's mine," she said quietly. She felt Xander's body go rigid, and his hand gripped her's tightly before falling slack. She stole a glance at him, seeing his wide eyes, his pale skin, and felt her heart start to break.

"Cordelia? Are you telling the truth?" Joyce asked. Buffy, overcoming her shock, glared at her mother. She couldn't really say that she was surprised about Cordelia. She and Willow had known that something was up for a while now.

"Yes, Mrs. Summers," Cordelia said, dropping her eyes to the floor, and hanging desperately onto her boyfriend's hand. He continued to stare down at her, shock permeating his every nerve.

"You do realize that this says you are pregnant?" Rupert clarified. "Don't cover for them."

"Hello?! What's with the not believing? I told you it's not mine. Cordy says it's hers. Case closed," Buffy said, angry that they still thought the teens were lying.

"IT'S MINE. ALRIGHT? I'm pregnant!" Cordy yelled, tired of hearing the arguing. A stunned silence filled the room as it finally sunk in. Cordelia Chase, poor little rich girl, seventeen years old. Was pregnant. Xander stood stunned as she pulled from him and slammed out the door. In the space of a heartbeat, he was after her.

Spike turned and glared daggers at his father, hurt and resentment written across his sharp features. Buffy stood beside him, her expression mirroring his. The parents looked contrite, yet firm as they gazed up at them. Dawn just sat, watching it all with wide-eyed fascination. This was better than Dawson's Creek.

"I believe we owe you an apology," Rupert started, exchanging a look with Joyce.

"I believe you're right," Spike said through clenched teeth. A muscle ticked in his cheek as he tried to reign in his temper.

"No need to get flippant. You have to admit you haven't been showing the utmost in common sense lately," Rupert shot back. Joyce stood, sensing the argument brewing.

"We can talk about this at home," Joyce said, warning dripping from her voice. Buffy's eyes narrowed, but she turned back to Spike, laying a gentle hand on his arm. He turned to look at her, face softening immediately.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she whispered, leaning up to brush a kiss across his mouth. He nodded and watched her walk out with Dawn and Joyce, before turning back to his father.

"So, what, just cause I'm racing, that somehow equals getting Buffy pregnant?" he asked, his tone venomous. Rupert rose to his feet, and stared the boy down.

"No. It does have me questioning your ability to think clearly. And after Druscilla. . ."

"Dru lied to me!" Spike roared, not happy to be delving into this again. "She lied to me. Told me she was pregnant."

"But NOT by ME!" Spike began pacing the length of the room. Giles watched him, feeling his anger drain out of him. He was being irrational, he knew. Between the racing and this scare, he was sure to be joining Rosemary in the hereafter sooner than he had anticipated.

"I'm sorry," Giles said, shoulders slumping. Spike had been doing all he could to prove himself to his father, and here he was jumping all over him for something that wasn't even the problem. Spike stopped pacing, and turned to stare at his father.

"I said, I'm sorry. I just saw the test. . .it didn't even occur to me that it could be Cordelia." Giles looked up Spike, apology written all over his face. Spike tilted his head, confused. His father was giving in first? Usually it took at least an hour for Rupert to even hint that he might have been wrong.

"Yeah, well. S'alright, I suppose. Prob'ly woulda thought the same thing," Spike acquiesced, looking down at his boots. "You think they'll be alright?" He nodded his head towards the door, indicating Cordy and Xander. Giles sighed heavily, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. Just because it wasn't his own son, did not make the situation any less dire for him. Xander had become his other child in the months that he had lived with them, and he felt the need to throttle him just as much as if it HAD been Spike.

"Cordy?" Xander called softly, walking over to where she sat on the bench outside of the apartment. He could see her shoulders shaking in the light of the lamp, could hear her soft sniffles as she tried to control her crying. He slowed as he approached, at a total loss at what to do, what to say. Hell, he was at a total loss at what to feel. Everything was swirling around inside of him, making it hard to grasp, hard to comprehend. Him? A father? Ridiculous. "Cordy?" he called again.

"What?" she snapped, her voice thick with tears, and misery. This wasn't how she wanted to tell him. Dammit, she should have taken the test with her, and thrown in out in a dumpster somewhere.

"Are. . .are you okay?" he asked, for lack of anything better. He could tell she wasn't, just by looking at her. He felt like such an ass. Seeing her now, he could tell the differences in her appearance. She looked tired, pale, and lost. He had been so blind?

"I'm seventeen and pregnant. How do you think I am?" she returned bitterly, instantly wishing she hadn't said it. She wasn't mad at him. It was just as much her fault. Xander flinched, and stopped just next to the bench. He remained standing, not wanting to upset her further by touching her. Of course, how was he to know that's just what she wanted? She wanted him to pull her into his arms and tell her it was alright, that they would be alright, and would make this work. Somehow.

"How long did I know?" She looked at him, eyes so stricken he nearly grabbed her, wanting to kiss away her pain. He restrained himself. Barely. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and nodded. "Just since this afternoon. I was going to tell you tomorrow," she said, wiping a finger under eyes, cursing cause she just KNEW she had mascara rings.

"You didn't have to tell me at all," he said. She didn't, either. She could have gone and gotten the abortion, and he would have been none the wiser. He scowled at just how selfish that sounded, and winced at the stab of shame that lanced through him. *Coward,* he scoffed at himself. He was really hating the part of himself that was wishing that she had done just that.

"No, I didn't." She turned her head away from him, feeling her heart shatter in her chest. He was going to run. She could see it in his eyes. "Don't worry, Xander. I don't want anything from you. I can take care of myself." She continued to stare out into the night, her back rigid, and her head held high. She was Cordelia Chase. And she could handle anything.

Xander stared at the rigid line of her back, willing himself to say something, anything. Each time he tried to open his mouth, something would stop him. She sat, waiting, for what he didn't know. Silent tears tracked down her cheeks as she heard the shift of his feet on the ground when he turned. She didn't allow herself to look after him, knowing if she did she would make a fool out of herself, begging him not to walk away. Like he was doing. She clamped a hand over her mouth, not allowing the scream of anguish to escape.

Xander walked aimlessly down the deserted street, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head hung low. All thoughts had ceased, save one, and it kept careening around in his mind like a ball at a tennis match.

He thought they had been so careful. Except for that first time. A bitter laugh exploded from his throat as he thought of his ninth grade Health teacher, with her stern face, and grey hair shaking her finger at him. 'See, told you it only takes once.' He laughed again, the sound coming out more like a sob. He blinked rapidly, desperately trying to stall the tears that threatened.

God, they were so young. He had turned 18 over the summer, and Cordy's birthday wasn't until December, so she was just seventeen. What did they know about raising a kid? They were still kids themselves. Not to mention the stellar examples that their parents gave them. The child would probably be in therapy as soon as it could talk.

Suddenly, bright, explicit images of his life passed before his eyes. Tony Harris, hovering over him as he cowered in the corner. Big and drunk, eyes full of hate for his son.

"You never should have been born," he'd told him, the statement being followed by the snap of a belt against tender flesh. His mother would always disappear, tears of hopelessness staining her cheeks as she left her son helpless to his father.

With hideous clarity, Xander watched with his mind's eye as his father's features shifted and melted into his. The child he once was turning into the child that could be his. Instead of Tony wielding the belt, it was him, terrorizing his child while the stink of beer and sweat filled the air.

With a cry, Xander took off in a blind run, desperately trying to outrun the images in his head. He ran until his lungs burned, and his stomach heaved, finally stumbling to a stop inside the park. He fell onto his knees, slumping over onto his hands, his shoulders shaking as the torrent of emotion swirling around inside of him broke free. Anybody who was listening would have felt their heart break at the sound of his desperate, tormented wails.

"Have you heard from Xander?" Buffy asked Willow, as they sat in the stands waiting for the race to start. The redhead shook her head, a frown of concern marring her features.

"No. I'm kinda worried. It's been a week. Where would he have gone?" she asked. That night, after Spike and Giles had gone to bed, hoping to give the brunette couple time to talk, Xander had come in, packed a bag, and left. He'd left a note, saying he would call, he just had some thinking he had to do, and if Cordy called, she was to hear that he loved her. They had let him be, not going to look for him, allowing him to do his soul searching. But Willow and Buffy were starting to have a hard time feeling sympathy for him. Cordy was a wreck, only talking to them. She hadn't told her parents yet, knowing they would try to force her to have an abortion, and do God knew what to Xander. She hadn't been out of the house except to go to school since the night he left, keeping up appearances on the outside.

"I don't know, but if he isn't back soon, I'm going to go Terminator on his ass for doing this to Cordy." Willow grunted in agreement, smiling and waving down at Mark. He had taken Xander's place tonight, since the boy had gone missing, and the band had a rare weekend off. He waved back, sent her a wicked grin and jogged to the pits. The girls stopped talking once the flag dropped, and sat forward in their seats, screaming for Spike as he quickly took second place.

Buffy couldn't really tell what had her heart sputtering more than usual this day. Or why exactly she just knew when it was going to happen. But inconceivably, on lap twenty five, in the corner of turn two, she knew. Her heart leapt into her throat as the wheels of the car seemed to go one way, while the car kept steadily going straight. When he careened into the wall, and shot straight back across the track, most of the other drivers missed him. One didn't. With a loud crunch of metal, he was hit with such a force that the car flipped, once, twice, finally landing on the roof on the third tumble. She watched with terror, her hand gripping Willow's painfully, for any sign that he was okay. Seconds passed by like hours as she waited. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she felt a scream of grief rising in her chest as the EMT's made their way to the car. Almost as soon as they reached it, movement could be made out from within. When Spike climbed out of the car, and removed his helmet, exposing his blood stained face, the crowd erupted into cheers, the sound near deafening. Willow joined with them, not seeing her friend sink lifelessly to the bleacher, head in her hands as relief nearly crippled her.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Jypzrose - jypzrose@aol.com

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

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