May 1988

The soft tones of Phil Collins singing "Groovy Kind of Love" filled the air in Riley’s bedroom.

"So this is some sort of ultimatum. That’s what you’ve been building up to?" Buffy sounded hurt.

"No, Buffy." Riley’s face looked as if she had suggested he liked to spend his weekends torturing puppies. "It’s just… we’ll have been together two years next month. And… well I think we’ve a spark. I mean I know I want to and I need to know that even if it’s not now, you can foresee a point where you will want to too.

I mean… I know it’s supposed to be some huge thing for a girl. Thing is, Buffy, when I imagine my first time, I imagine it being with you. If you don’t feel the same way about me now… then, I think it’s time to face the fact that you probably never will…"

"Riley…" Buffy looked up into his puppy dog eyes. "Come the day, there’s no-one else I’d rather be with. Right now, I just don’t know when that’ll be."

"Buffy, I don’t mind waiting. I just want to know that you feel the same way I do, because otherwise I think it would be better for both of us to make a fresh start."

"Riley, you know I love you... Christmas… Give me till Christmas. Okay?" Buffy pulled down her top where Riley’s hands had pulled it from her waistband. "I think I should maybe go for now. I’ll call you tomorrow morning..."

Buffy picked up her jacket and purse from the floor and made her way homeward. It only occurred to her as she mounted the steps at her own front porch that she hadn’t kissed Riley goodbye.

~+~

September / October 1988

Spike drove the classic car into the school parking lot to the smooth accompaniment of the recently stripped and rebuilt engine and the less smooth strains of the Dead Kennedys and "California uber alles". The interior still needed some work to bring it back to its former glory, but a summer of working at the local meat-packing plant had paid for the car, the body work and the engine parts, not to mention the second-hand leather duster that draped his now muscular frame. The interior work would probably have to wait another year. For now, it was time to get back into the academic swing of things. He could have got something newer for the same money and a lot less effort. Even so, Spike preferred it to some newer more generic model.

Xander got out of the passenger side and Faith climbed out of the backseat. Spike went round to the trunk of the car and pulled out a carrier bag, catching Faith by the arm.

"Catch, pet. You left some of your unmentionables when you stopped over at the weekend."

Faith glanced into the bag and then did a double take before stuffing it into the bottom of her book-bag. "They couldn’t have waited?"

"Hey, for all I knew they were your favouritest pair ever, kitten." Spike replied in a highly ironic tone that had Xander looking to and fro between his best friend and his sister.

"Hardly," snorted Faith.

Spike raised an eyebrow and gave her his copyrighted smirk, and Xander finally spoke up. "I don’t know what’s going on here, but you guys are up to something."

"Us?" chorused the conspirators. "Never…"

Xander threw his hands in the air and walked off toward the school building in mock disgust, before turning round. "Are you guys coming or what?"

~+~

November 1988

Spike spotted the blonde, alone for once, in the mass of humanity traversing the school corridors at the end of the school day. When she drew level, he turned around and fell into step beside her.

"Summers, I need a word."

"Here’s one for you then, "Off". You can take your pick from the generally used prefixes as long as the overall expression means, "Go away.""

"Can’t do that, pet," he responded. "Not till you tell me Bitlet’s alright, at any rate. Neither of you showed up for class on Tuesday night, and I tried ringing the house but there was no answer last night or the night before or the night before that."

Buffy looked decidedly shifty. "It’s none of your business."

"Okay, pet. It’s none of my business, but you’re going to tell me anyway. You can either tell me now. Or I can give you a lift home and you can tell me there. Or I’ll wait there until someone else will."

"Riley’s—."

"At practice. D’you think I’m stupid, pet? Now, d’you want a lift or not?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I need to get some stuff from my locker."

"Fine, but when we get back to your place we talk."

Buffy tried to spend long enough at her locker to ensure that no-one would see her getting in a car with Spike. That was the last thing she wanted to have to explain to anyone. Okay, second to last.

Spike waited patiently while Buffy transferred books from her locker to her bag and vice versa, and then the pair walked to his car, the last remaining one in the lot apart from those belonging to the various sports teams, in a tense silence. Spike lit up a cigarette as soon as he got in the car and Buffy immediately started to cough in a pointed manner.

"Oh, for Christ’s sake, pet. If it upsets you that much then wind down your bloody window, or is it beyond your capabilities to even work out that this model predates electric windows?"

"I knew that. This model predates the wheel." Buffy was so quick to protest that Spike smirked at her obvious oversight.

"Right, love."

Spike gunned the engine and the car’s tape deck started up playing the Clash at full volume until he turned it down low enough to allow for conversation. "So, what’s the deal with the disappearing sister and the empty house?"

"Can we just wait until we get back home to do this?"

"As long as you promise not to waltz through the front door and then slam it in my face?"

"Would I do that?" Buffy asked with a sarcastic lilt to her voice.

Spike merely treated her to a pointed glance and Buffy noticed for the first time just how blue his eyes were.

"Okay, I would do that, but you would just be waiting for me when I left the house, so I might as well get it over with." Buffy stumbled over the words and then finished by giving Spike a shy half smile.

"Right then," Spike pronounced, satisfied.

"How come you never bring the car when you come over to see Dawn?"

"‘Cause I only live two blocks over, pet." Spike’s voice showed his amusement.

"But…" Buffy’s mouth opened and closed in a goldfish-like manner.

"But what?" Spike chuckled. "But that would mean I live in a nice neighbourhood instead of down by the docks or something."

Buffy’s mouth stopped moving and she had the good grace to blush. "I guess so. You don’t…"

"Act like some upper-class snob with a stick up my arse?" Spike supplied for her. "Not everyone whose parents have money is a poster child for the Young Republicans. Dad earned his money fair and square. He didn’t inherit it. He was brought up to believe that if something’s worth having it’s worth working for and he brought me up the same way."

"I guess I kind of jumped to conclusions," Buffy admitted.

"Yeah, pet, and you still are. Living in a nice house doesn’t make me any more or less of a delinquent than if we did stay in some pokey flat down by the docks."

"Aren’t we Mr Proletariat?" she asked her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Five syllables? Someone buy you one of those word a day calendars last Christmas or something?"

"Very funny. Maybe I’m just not as stupid as you think?"

Spike gave her another flash of his ultramarine gaze as he pulled the DeSoto up in front of Buffy’s house. "I’ve never thought you were stupid. Just that your focus has always been on other things."

Buffy found herself flushing underneath his gaze and the unexpected almost-compliment. She scrambled to get out of the car before Spike could notice her disconcertment, but she was already too late.

Spike followed her as she made her way into the house, dropped her bag, grabbed a couple of tumblers of juice passing one to him and made her way out onto the back porch. Buffy sat herself down on the porch steps, ignoring the patio furniture that sat around. Spike positioned himself at the opposite side of the steps, leaving a healthy gap between them. "So, pet?" he asked.

"It’s mom… She’s in hospital," Buffy responded.

"Bad?"

"We don’t know. They’re doing tests."

Spike didn’t probe any further, just gave her a sympathetic look and waited for her to elucidate in her own time, if at all.

Seconds stretched toward a minute and Spike placed his glass on the deck and shuffled toward Buffy, his hand brushing against her back, the touch so tentative at first she wondered if it was him or a random breeze. When she didn’t shy away, he began to rub comforting circles on her back until she let herself relax against him.

~+~

December 1988

Buffy looked seasonal and seductive in her red, satin, full-length dress, or so Riley thought as he fingered the hotel room key in his tux pocket. Seduction however was the last thing on Buffy’s mind, the promise she’d made back in May forgotten totally under the weight of a multitude of problems.

"Buffy?"

"Mm-hmm," the blonde responded in the most non-committal manner possible, realising she was totally unaware of whatever the question was.

Smiling, Riley led her toward the cloakroom. When she realised where she was she looked at her watch. It was only ten o’clock. The dance didn’t finish for another two hours. Giles wasn’t expecting her home until half past twelve. She tugged on Riley’s hand to attract his attention as they stood in the queue, most of whom were putting items in, not taking them back out. "Riley? You got some plan you want to let me in on?"

"Well, I thought you wouldn’t want to rush things. If we leave now, it means we’ve got two hours before you have to be home." Riley whispered under his breath.

"Got two hours where? What are you talking about?" Buffy asked exasperated.

"You wouldn’t want to rush things! You really thought that with everything that’s going on with mom… You’re kidding, right? When I said give me till Christmas, I meant give me till Christmas and we’ll talk about it again, not give me till Christmas then climb on. You’re acting like you’ve been granted droit de senior or whatever. Get over yourself." Buffy’s voice in contrast to Riley’s was getting louder.

"Buffy, we already had this discussion. If you don’t want to stand by what you said before, then maybe it is time we called it quits."

~+~

"Pet? Are you alright?"

Buffy turned at the familiar voice. "Spike? I didn’t know you were there." She looked askance at his black jeans and T-shirt, wondering how he hadn’t been obvious amongst all the tuxedos.

"Tha’s ‘cause I haven’t been there. I’ve been there." He gestured toward a smaller door that was just far enough ajar for her to tell that it led to the kitchens, his cigarette end glowing brightly in the dark of the alley.

She didn’t realise he’d moved closer, until he wiped the tears from her cheek with the ball of his thumb.

"You got a coat, pet?"

"Yes …no, a shawl but Riley’s got the cloakroom ticket."

"Don’t worry about that. Tell me what it looks like and I’ll get it for you,"

"It’s dark green, with a red pattern and there’s a silver brooch like a star, but they never let you have anything without a ticket unless you wait to the very end and no-one claims it."

Spike just winked and headed past the bouncers like he owned the place. A couple of minutes later he emerged carrying both the shawl and his leather duster. On top of his T-shirt he wore a red button-down shirt.

Just as Spike was helping her into the coat Riley appeared in the club doorway.

"Well, well, well. It didn’t take you long to find yourself a replacement, did it?" he drawled. "Might have known you’d be hanging around."

"It’s not like that, but even if it was it wouldn’t be any of your business any more," Buffy snapped, her mouth falling open at the end of the sentence as she became aware of Spike’s simultaneous argument.

"Coming from someone who was screwin’ around behind her back I think you’ve got a bloody cheek."

Buffy stared at Spike. "He wha'? Who?"

"Yeah, I’d really like to know, too. What exactly are you trying to say …Spike?" The taller teen twisted his mouth in distaste as he spat out the blonde’s name and glowered at him.

Spike in turn took a step closer and jutted his chin out in defiance. "I’m saying that if you’re going to screw around on your girlfriend, you should make sure you take those nice white cotton Y fronts that your mommy sewed your nametag into when you go. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to know whose house you’re in either."

Riley’s face finally flushed bright red. "You don’t have any proof."

"He doesn’t need any proof. The look on your face said it all, Riley. Come on, Spike." Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm using him as a support to let her stride off despite her three-and-a-half inch stilettos.

As soon as the pair rounded the corner out of sight of anyone in the alley Buffy sagged against a nearby wall.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked.

"Reckoned the girl in question didn’t want anyone to know, not to mention the fact that I didn’t think you’d believe me," Spike shrugged.

"I…I… might have done. I don’t know…lately, maybe."

"Come on, pet. Best get you home… assuming that’s what you want? You could always go back in?" Spike held out his arm so that she could hold onto his elbow for support as they resumed walking.

"And have to look at him all night… no, thank you. I only came in the first place because he laid on the guilt trip about me spending all my time at the hospital and never making any time for him. Then we were barely there an hour and…" Buffy broke off with a blush. She watched the pavement as she walked for half a block and then darted a sideways glance, toward Spike.

"You were joking about him having his name sewn into his underwear, right?"

"An’ how would I have known they were his if he hadn’t?" Spike treated her to an infectious grin.

~+~

They were back on the porch steps. A radio played in the background playing a chart run down.

"So last Christmas in the old homestead, then?" Spike asked softly.

"Yeah, they’re waiting till after the holidays to put up the "For Sale" signs, but… it’s pretty much gone."

"I bet Giles has been complaining about the lack of a National Health Service…"

"How did you know?" Buffy asked wryly.

"’Cause round about now I’ve got an urge to do the same... So how long before they decide that an experimental treatment isn’t experimental any more?"

"Longer than mom can afford to wait…"

"And in the meantime the insurance company just washes their hands of the whole thing?" Spike shook his head softly.

"That’s right."

"But it gives your mum a better chance, right? And that’ s what’s really important…"

"Yep."

"So, Riley knew all the stuff you had goin’ on and he still…"

"Sort of. He knew mom was in the hospital. I never actually told him the rest."

Spike’s head swivelled to look enquiringly at Buffy and she shrugged in response. "You’re sort of easier to talk to…"

Silence settled around the pair apart from the quiet music from the radio. "This isn’t quite what I had in mind for my one night off hospital duty," Buffy mentioned.

"Yeah, well, maybe I should leave you to it," Spike offered, fidgeting as he rose to his feet.

Buffy quickly rose as well. "I wasn’t complaining. In fact, I think things probably turned out for the better." She grasped the elbow of his shirt. "Stay. I was just wishing I’d at least got a dance before I made my exit."

Instead of taking the offered hand, Buffy slipped underneath it her arms wrapping around his waist so that she was held closer against his body than he had ever intended. A melancholy rock ballad provided the backdrop as the pair shuffled in each other’s arms. For the first time since she had realised the severity of her mother’s illness Buffy felt at peace. As Poison played the final bars she glanced up to see those blue eyes watching her and she was unable to resist covering those soft lips with her own.

At the feel of her lips on his, Spike’s heart started beating double time. He had wanted this for so long. His feet froze in place and then he forced himself to pull away.

"Buffy, luv, I can’t. Look, it’s time I headed home. Say hi to Bit and your mum and Giles for me." Before Buffy could work out what was going on he was gone.

~+~

Buffy pushed coins into the vending machine and pressed the buttons to make it dispense a stale tuna sandwich. Moving back to make room for her sister, she tried her best to sound casual.

"Dawn. You know Spike pretty well, right?"

"So-so, I suppose," Dawn admitted. "Why the sudden interest?"

"No reason. I’m not interested. Why would I be interested in Spike?"

"Spike has a girlfriend?" Suddenly his abrupt departure after the Christmas party made far too much sense. He’d just been being friendly and she’d… "Wait. Riley told Ahn and Harm that he caught me and Spike? He’s the one that…"

Dawn counted off the questions on her fingers. "Well, duh. He’s been going out with some Goth chick he met in LA since about June. Darla, I think. Definitely begins with D anyway. He only sees her at weekends. I think Xander said she’s a couple of years older than him.

And like I said Janice’s sister said she overheard him, and he’s the one that what?"

"It doesn’t matter any more. I’d already given him his ring back when I found out anyway." Buffy was reluctant to admit that Riley had slept with someone else, behind her back. Part of her felt guilty that she hadn’t been enough for him. Maybe if she’d… he wouldn’t have… Even though on a conscious level she knew she was in the right and nothing excused what he’d done, she couldn’t silence that little nagging voice.

~+~

Buffy had watched him as he arrived with his girl. She reckoned Xander must have been feeling pretty generous when he called that age difference a couple of years. She would have put it at at least five and maybe as much as ten. Not that you could fault his taste, if you went for that type. Sort of a moonlight and shadow effect. Pale, pale skin and eyes and waves of dark hair reaching almost to her waist. They went straight to a table that was marked as reserved. The man who was already seated there merely gave a brief nod to the pair, though the woman he was with rose to hug the new arrivals, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks.

The dark-haired woman (Buffy refused to call her a girl) reached over to straighten Spike’s shirt collar and though Spike waved her hands away it was in a good-humoured way, not as if he was really irritated by the possessive gesture. She watched as Spike picked up both his and the woman’s coat, draping them over one arm, while the woman fumbled in her purse before passing him some money and nodding in the direction of the bar. Spike shook his head, laughing as if she’d suggested something outrageous, but took the money anyway.

Buffy lost sight of him for some time and assumed he’d headed for the cloakroom. When next she saw him he was at the bar and he’d been joined by Xander and Faith. Spike bought a round of drinks and Buffy could tell by the colour-coded cups that three of them were alcoholic. Yeah, she’d been so right. A couple of years, her butt. When Spike returned to the table Xander and Faith went with him. That left three empty seats.

A soft male voice spoke right by her ear. "Penny for them?"

~+~

Faith and Xander greeted the others around the table as they sat down. "Hi, Oz. Mrs Osbourne, Mrs Blank. What’s happened to your normal escort this evening?"

Spike smirked as he sorted out the drinks order and pulled his mum’s change from his back pocket. "Dad drew the short straw. He gets to make the two-hour round trip to pick up gran and grampa, but he shouldn’t be too much longer."

"In that case, I shall take full advantage and gain some cool points by dancing with the prettiest woman in the room," Xander held out his hand to Dru.

"Crawler," accused Faith.

"C’mon, pet." Spike caught Faith by the waist before she could sit down. "If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em."

Xander bellowed directly into Spike’s ear as they danced, trying to make himself heard. "So, no sign of your Miss Midwich then? Told you it was premature you breaking things off with Darla."

Spike shrugged. "Harmony and Anya are over in the far corner with their latest conquests and Finn and Percy are holding court at the bar. No sign of Buffy though. I know she had a ticket but maybe after last week she decided just to go see her mum with Giles and Bitty… And all you said about me chuckin’ Darla was could I chuck her in your direction."

This time it was Xander who shrugged.

"Besides," added Spike. "If she doesn’t come tonight, it doesn’t stop me asking her out next time I see her, now I can do it with a clean conscience."

At the end of the song Dru looped an arm round Spike’s waist as they walked back. "She’ll come, pet. Who could resist a handsome devil like you?"

Spike pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "Thanks, mum, but I think you’re biased."