Lonely No More

"So, oh King of Planning at the Last Minute—Do you have our
hotel
too?" Buffy asked after they'd grabbed their suitcases and
nabbed
themselves a rental car.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," Spike told her haughtily.
She
raised an eyebrow at him. "I do. I just need to look in my little
envelope here—" He was hoping and praying that he'd just
overlooked that when his uncle had handed him the package
and that there was something about reservations. He opened
the envelope as Buffy waited, slightly impatiently, tapping her
foot.

He opened the envelope and rummaged around. He held his
breath until he found what he was looking for. He sighed in
relief. Thank Almighty Zeus! He was sure he'd never hear the
end of it if that hadn't been booked.

"See?" he thrust the paper containing the hotel complete with
pictures and directions at her.

She smiled and skimmed over the information. She
gasped. "Spike, this is incredible. It's a resort—we have
a
townhouse complete with a kitchen and a balcony—but it
only has one incredibly large bedroom that takes up the top
floor."

Spike rolled his eyes upwards, not sure if he should thank or
damn his uncle for that.

"Well, it says that the couch pulls out in the living room. So I
could take that—"

"No you will not. My girl gets the bedroom. Vacation
remember?"

She looked at him oddly, "But it's your vacation too."

"Buffy, you can take the bedroom."

"Thank you. Will you let me pay for my half of –"

"I told you I'm not taking your money."

"But Spike you had to have—"

He put a finger to her soft, full lips. "No. Not a cent, got
it?"

She nodded.

"You can treat me to dinner, how's that?"

She smiled and nodded. He grinned and ushered her to the
car they'd just rented. "Then we can check out the island,
yeah? Drive around, see what's up?"

She nodded enthusiastically and buckled herself in. He smiled
at the joy on her face.

"Spike, we can get massages in our room! And they have
Hula lessons and a private beach . . . oh look! They have a
pizza place right down the road from that delivers too!" Buffy
sat on the couch in their town house poring over the perks of
their resort and Spike sat back and just watched her. Already
she looked as if the weight she'd been carrying around in
Sunnydale had been lifted. He was seeing a passion for
living that he had yet to see and had hoped to bring out in her.
The magic of the quiet –and romantic—island was weaving
its spell. Course, Spike had to wonder what other magick's
were coming out to play and just what his uncle was
thinking. Was he trying to drive him right around the bend by
placing he and Buffy here? It was both his pleasure and his
hell.

She looked up at him "We should get some groceries so we
can make breakfast here. What do you think?"

He nodded and smiled.

"What are you thinking? You're being awfully quiet over
there."

"I'm thinking how cute you are when you're excited. You
positively glow kitten."

She blushed, something else he wasn't used to. Setting
down the brochure she jumped up. "So, let's get going.
I'm
feeling the jet lag catch up with me."

"Ah, but we have to beat it by staying up."

She groaned. "Slave driver.'

He grinned, "Yep. And your master wants you keep your
eyes open for a nice place to eat."

She wanted him that much she knew. Beyond that, she didn't
really want to analyze it. She'd known she was attracted to
him in Sunnydale, and she'd beaten the feeling down with a
stick. No, more like a tree – it took that much force to beat it
down, curb it and generally make the best of ignoring it. But
something about being in a different place so far away from
home, something about the island was weaving its spell
around her and she felt free. And, if she was even more
honest with herself, she felt safe with Spike, cherished
even. He cared about her and it wasn't because he wanted
something from her. No, he truly CARED. That meant
everything to her. Everything that she couldn't express with
words. Words failed her a lot of the time and she'd learned a
hard lesson that sometimes giving voice to what you really
felt inside, could only cause you pain. Showing vulnerability
meant that it could be used against you. You could become
crippled by your feelings when put in the hands of someone
not worthy of your love and trust.

Spike, however . . . she trusted. To a degree anyway. She
still needed to keep herself in check and wasn't about to go
all nilly willy with gushing to him about how much this meant
to her, about how much fun she was already having and
how thankful she was to him for getting her away.

However, that didn't mean she couldn't show him right?
Maybe she couldn't say how much she wanted him or how
much this meant to her, but she could surely show him. She
pondered that as she watched him decide what to order. My
but he could be picky when it came to choosing food. She
hadn't noticed before how he had to have only the best.
However, she should have known by the resort he'd booked
for them. It was outrageously gorgeous and exotic.

"What are you thinking about kitten?" he asked as he placed
his menu down.

She shook herself out of the trance she'd been in watching
him and shook her head, "Nothing."

"Looked like something."

"I was just thinking about how I could possibly thank you for
all this," said, gesturing around them.

"For dinner? You're paying remember?" he grinned.

"No, Spike, for this vacation."

"Just you havin' a good time is thanks enough for me."

"Hmm… We'll see," she murmured.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his eyebrows
shooting up.

She shrugged, "Just that."

He fidgeted in his chair. "Oh?"

She studied him, cocking her head to the side. He was
nervous. She found that odd . . . and oddly refreshing. The
things he did to make her nervous – his pet names, his tender
looks, his fierce protectiveness and the way he always
seemed to want to touch her and hold her –now the tables
were possibly turned and he was the one who was
nervous. She grinned devilishly. Oh yes, she could definitely
have fun with this.
Chapter 16

After dinner, the pair decided to take a stroll around the resort and
check out the private beach. It surprised Spike to see the girl take
off at the first sign of water. Laughing gleefully she kicked off her
sandals and bounded into the water, lifting up her ankle length skirt
to her knees and allowing the water to splash over her. Thinking it
looked like fun, he chucked his shoes and socks and ran to join her.
She laughed as a large wave came and nearly soaked him.

"You think that's funny?" he asked, grinning and pointing at
her. "Just you wait, my lioness," and he started stalking her.

Squealing, she took off, running in the water away from him. He
laughed as
he ran after her, gasped as she fell and then braced himself as he
tripped
over her. The sound of her continuous laughter was let him know she
was
all right when he resurfaced. She sat up to her waist in the warm
ocean
water, her hair soaked and stringy and her tank clinging to her pert
breasts, outlining them for him, and her skirt rode up to her mid
thigh.

"You look like a water nymph," he breathed huskily.

She stopped laughing and cocked her head to the side. "Is that a good
thing?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen many?" she teased.

"Yes—Well, pictures of them."

She smiled and stood, her skirt falling back down. She held out her
hand to
him. "Come on."

He took her hand, wet as it was, and stood. They were mere inches
apart
and she gazed up at him. She reached out to push some of his curls
away
from his forehead and it was like watching her in slow motion. He
held his
breath and his eyes drifted shut as he leaned in to her touch. He
thought he
would fall apart at just the simple gesture of her hand moving down
the
side of his face, caressing him. His eyes flew open when he felt her
lips
touch his.

Buffy was kissing him was the repeated mantra in his mind as she
kissed
him softly, sweetly and much too quickly. He stood straight as a rod,
unsure
of what to do. How was this possible? His uncle was the God of Love,
he
himself was a well known ladies man – at one time—and he was struck
dumb by this slip of a mortal woman.

"Thank you," she whispered when she pulled back, putting some
distance
between them. He stared at her, letting her words settle over him.

"For?" he nearly croaked.

"For this vacation."

He shook his head, and in the process sprinkling her with
water. "Don't
thank me . . . like that."

"I wanted to."

"You don't have to," he told her.

"I know," she said simply and his eyes widened.

"Buffy—"

"I wanted to," she said again and he finally caught the meaning. What
she
was saying and what she was doing were not related. She thanked him
for
the vacation, but her actions were not because of gratitude. She
kissed him
because she WANTED to. He stood there, staring at her. She gave him a
soft smile and walked away.

What are you doing just standing here? Spike reprimanded himself.
Why
aren't you going after her? Coward.

Buffy looked over her shoulder; Spike was still standing there, the
waves
crashing around his knees. Had she gone too far? Should she have not
done
that? She'd thought he would have reciprocated. She thought he would
have liked –what Buffy? A broken woman such as yourself? You've
pretty
much told him how pathetic you were with the men you chose, the men
you'd loved and the lack of friends you have, not to mention the
nosedive
your business was taking. Why would he want you? He might care for
you,
but he cares as a friend and you just crossed a line. Tears mingled
with the
saltwater dripping down her face and she took a shuddering breath,
getting
ready to run back to their townhouse and far away from Spike when she
felt herself being brought up against a solid chest.

"Pet," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "No it's okay. I shouldn't have done that. I
crossed a
line and –"

He spun her around. "No, you didn't cross a line," he shook his
head. "You
shocked me. Buffy, I . . . I never thought you'd do that and then you
did
and . . . I thought I was dreaming," he finished on a whisper.

"You thought of me kissing you?" she squeaked out in shock.

"So many times."

"Oh."

"Can I kiss you now Buffy?"

She nodded.

Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in until their breath just
mingled
and he gazed into her eyes, watching each emotion, watching her eyes
grow
greener as he stared at her. Darting out his tongue, he traced her
bottom
lip and she whimpered, her eyes falling shut. He smiled and dipped
his
head, pressing his lips against hers to which she immediately opened
her
mouth and he delved inside languorously tasting her, exploring her
mouth.
Her own tongue came out to play and he groaned, delving his hands
into her hair and bringing her against him, letting her feel just how
affected he was by her and how glad he was that she had done that.

Buffy broke away when the sensations that she had long thought were
no longer were running rampant through her. She thought she was
ready for this, hell, she'd thought she was so ready that she was
going to seduce him and tease him. But this. . . the feeling he
invoked in her was overwhelming. The things she felt in that kiss—he
might as well be the wave knocking her over.

She started to move away and he stopped her, held her fast. "Don't
go," he told her.

"Spike," she said, feeling a tad panicked.

He held her fast. "No, Buffy. Don't run. You've got nothing to run
from,
nothing to fear from me. I won't leave you like them."

Tears dripped from her eyes. "I'm scared," she whispered.

He wiped her tears away gently with the pads of his thumb. "Don't
be," he
whispered. "I won't let anything hurt you. Do you trust me?"

She swallowed and took a deep breath, nodding.

Spike took her in his arms and held her. "I'll hold you and care for
you. . . I
won't push you for anything and won't ever make you do anything you
don't want to do."

Buffy held onto him tight. "I'm still scared."

"I know, kitten," he told her and brushed a kiss across her
forehead. "I am
too."

"You're not afraid of anything."

If you only knew, he thought. "I'll hold you tonight kitten? Can I do
that?"

"Please," she whispered.

"For as long as you'll let me," he whispered back. Or as long as my
uncle
will, he thought.