Chapter Six

Buffy ran all the way back to her dorm. In her turbulent state, the physical exertion was soothing. Solid. Something to focus on, instead of how Spike had just kissed her. No. Not just kiss. It was more than that. Kisses were sweet and airy. This was deeper, more intense. It was as if he had tried to claim her. And she had claimed him back.

Buffy, moral voice announced, you have no business claiming vampires. Vampires are evil. We do not like vampires. Spike is a vampire, therefore he is icky. And non-kissable.

(He is to kissable!)

Be quiet, bad voice, I'm talking. Moral voice continued. Spike may be very handsome (totally hot! interjected bad voice) and you may have experienced temporary insanity, (temporary sanity!), but there will be no more repeats of kissing. Especially intense, drawn out, mouthwatering, perfectly wonderful...

Damn. Buffy scowled as she stomped up to her dorm room. Even her moral voice was drooling over Spike kisses now. What was she going to do now?

Find Spike and kiss him again! Followed by kissing, and some more kissing, and then -


Buffy jerked the door open, almost pulling it off its hinges. Oh why oh couldn't her life be simple? She's not asking for much - just the occasional, basic apocalypse, maybe some doppelgangers thrown in on the side. A demon or two. Definitely not a vampire husband who was starting to look like a frighteningly good idea.

Avoid Spike. Easiest way to solve this problem. Avoidance. Lawyers only, get a divorce, then drive off into the sunset with Riley.

Emotions resolved and/or denied, Buffy entered her room.

"Hi, Buffy. How'd your meeting go?" Willow asked, looking up from her textbook, neatly highlighting the important words. Blue for vocab, yellow for concepts, orange for people. Uh oh, where's her orange?

Buffy reached down and picked up the orange highlighter. Handing it to Willow, she sighed. "Mr. Harmon tried to get us to talk, but Spike and I kept arguing. He was being an even bigger jerk than normal. Spike, not Harmon."


"He won't even consider a divorce unless I call it quits with Riley. Kept on going on and on about how I was his until the divorce and how Riley was a git and that meant I shouldn't see other guys. I mean, where does he get off? I was with Riley waay before any stupid spell screwed up my life."

"And once again, I say sorry. But about the Riley thing," Willow paused, treading carefully, "maybe you shouldn't see him until you're all not with the marriage thing and - "

"WHAT?! No. No way am I giving to Spike. He's just being his usual stupid, idiotic, annoying self. We're doing this MY way." Buffy punctuated each word with a punch to her pillow.

"Ookay, sensing this is an issue here." Willow held up her hands in surrender, "I was just saying. You don't have to do that."

"Damn right." Buffy gave the pillow one last punch. It exploded. White fluffy cotton rained down over her face and shoulders. "Oops."

Fourth pillow this month. Buffy jumped up, sending stuffing everywhere.

"I'm going to the Bronze. With Riley. And if Spike doesn't like it, he can go stake himself," she announced.

"Way to be empowered. But it works better without the fluffy stuffing all over."

Buffy looked down at herself.

"I'll go after I clean up."


Who did that bitch think she is, anyway? Spike asked himself, downing a shot of whiskey. After their little back alley make-out session, he'd decided the best course of action was to get drunk. Very drunk. With the help of some nancy boy who screamed in terror of Spike's game-face and dropped his wallet before running like a girl, he was well on his way to alcohol induced oblivion.

A self righteous little Slayer, that's who. Thinkin' she's so great, just cause he couldn't bite her. Going on and on about how he's got to jump to her tune. When he damn well has the right to demand she kick the Riley git onto the curb. Bitch acted like it was HIS fault the meeting with the lawyer screwed up. He was being the reasonable one! She's the one who makes this all difficult.

Spike tossed back another shot and signaled the bartender for some more whiskey. All she had to figure out was that they could have a lot more fun doing a more passionate kind of fighting. Like in the alley. That was better than anything under the spell's influence. Well, except for the part where she took him and -

And she was here with the Riley git. Again. What, were they glued at the hip or something? Stupid Soldier Boy. Stupid Slayer for letting him slobber over her like that. Stupid Spike for letting it get to him.

Slayer wants to act like an idiot? Fine. Go ahead. Not like he cares. Spike nodded firmly, sealing the vow with yet another shot.

As he enjoyed the sensation of the burning liquid, a husky voice whispered into his ear, "Come here often?"

Spike turned his head, taking in this new girl. Dressed for a night on the town, her skimpy little red top barely covering an impressive chest; glossy dark hair artfully messy and curling around her face.

"Depends. You here a lot?"

She smiled and sat down next to him. "Most nights. Always looking for some company."

"Happy to oblige." Spike gave her his most charming smile. He might not be able to bite, his wife might hate his guts, but he could still pick up a date. "Wanna dance?"


Buffy swayed to the music in Riley's arms, ignoring the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her. It's one thing when SPIKE tells you to do thing, it's another when Willow agrees. And according to Willow, now was the time to come clean with Riley. Dump him or tell him he has to wait.

"Hey, Buffy, you coming to the party at Lowell?"


"The party. At Lowell House. My dorm. In two days."

"Yeah," big smile for the human boyfriend, "of course!"

They swayed a bit more. Buffy tuned out Riley's babble about some Initiative thing. His idea of an 'exciting mission' was incredibly boring.

Was that Spike over there? Dancing? Buffy craned her neck over Riley's shoulder to see. It was Spike! With some brunette slut. Practically dry humping him in the middle of the dance floor. Cheap hussy.

Spike caught her eye and smirked. Screw you, Slayer. Two can play at this game.

"What are you looking at?" Riley turned his head to see what had his girlfriend so entranced. "Wait a second, isn't that your friend Xander's friend? Do you want to go over and say hi?"

"No! No, that's okay."

Riley shrugged and pulled her closer for the slow song just starting. "Good. I don't want to share you right now."

He leaned in to kiss her. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Spike making out with The Hussy. She surged onto her tip-toes to meet his lips.

Riley was ecstatic. Patience had finally paid off! Buffy was kissing him!

Buffy opened her mouth and sought to deepen the kiss. Unfortunately, she found it exceedingly awkward to do that on her tippy-toes. Riley's arms weren't nearly as supportive as Spike's had been. She sank back down. Riley followed, bending slightly.

Okay. A little less awkward angle. Buffy tried to throw herself into the passion of the kiss. Okay, self, join in the passion. What passion? He's slobbering a little. And you got more excited when Jimmy kissed you in eighth grade.

Buffy pulled away. Reluctantly, Riley let go.

"That, that was good."

Buffy gave him a little smile, "Uh-huh. Listen, I'd hate to cut our date short, but I have to go patrolling."

"I'll come with you," Riley insisted. "Give me a second to get my equipment."

"That's okay. This, uh, this patrol route is best done alone. Silencey and stealthy type thing. I'll be fine."

"You sure? You shouldn't go out without backup."

"Riley, Slayers have been patrolling without backup for centuries. I'll be fine. Good night!"

Buffy hurried to the door, pausing only long enough to give The Hussy the evil eye. Spike deserved a tramp like that. Hopefully she carries some disease that infects horny vampires.

Studiedly ignoring the irony of HER being jealous of HIM, Buffy went out to patrol.


"You know, hot stuff, we could get to know each other better in a more quiet environment," Gina?Tina? cooed into Spike's ear. She interlaced their fingers and lazily stroked his left hand. "Don't you agree?"

Still pissed about Buffy's little "incident" with the git, Spike was more than ready to say yes. "Whatever you say, baby."

Gina/Tina giggled. "I like that." Her thumb grazed his ring. "Ooh, pretty. Where'd you get this?"

Spike looked down. Crap, he'd forgotten to take off his wedding ring. Hopefully, Gina/Tina would be as ditzy as she looked. "No where important."

"Looks like a wedding ring."


Gina/Tina's eyes narrowed. "You divorced?"

"Well, uh, actually, uh, that's, uh...soon," Spike fumbled, too drunk to lie properly. "OW!"

Gina/Tina had kicked him! "Bastard! I don't go around sleeping with married men. What kind of girl do you think I am!"

"Hey, Tina, you came onto me - "

"My name is MINA!"

Ouch. Spike rubbed his cheek where she had slapped him. Tonight was not shaping up to be a good night.

"Asshole!" Mina flounced off. What was it about her and scumbags like that? Why couldn't she meet a decent, single guy?

Spike just groaned. He couldn't even successfully cheat on Buffy? How pathetic was that.

He did the only thing left to do. Order another shot and hope to get sloshed. And ignore the still sober part that whispered, Mina would have been a poor substitute for the Slayer.