Part Two [Expanded Storyline B]

"This is," Buffy said, "quite possibly the best meal I've ever eaten. Can I kidnap Gina when I go home?"

"Not a chance, luv," Spike chuckled. "Gina stays 'ere." He took a bite of pasta, savoring its taste and chewing slowly, then took a sip of his drink. "You'll just 'ave to set up a practice in Sunnydale, I guess."

"And lose all my pro sports clients?" she asked, incredulous. "Yeah, like that will happen. I'm staying put in NYC."

He sighed inwardly, but grinned. "Then Sunnydale'll 'ave to be your vacation spot," he suggested. "Sandy beaches, beautiful weather..." he said tantalizingly. "You'll 'ave the best tan in the practice."

"It does sound tempting..." she said, "... but what about Acapulco?"

"Acapulco?" he asked.

"Every year, Dawnie and I rent a beach house for a month in Acapulco. It's kind of tradition, you know? Four glorious weeks of tanning on a private beach, where we don't have to worry about tan lines..." she trailed off, sipping her water.

She's trying to kill me, Spike decided. By the end of her second month, I will be dead. "Sounds great," he mumbled, playing with the remainder of his meal. "Hmm," he muttered as the beginnings of an itch tingled on his left calf. He unconsciously lifted his leg and scratched at the tingling area, then lowered his leg again.

"Spike..." Buffy said, gaping at him.

"Yeah?" he asked, returning his attention to his meal.

"You just moved your leg."

~*~*~*~

"Are you coming or not?" Buffy asked impatiently.

Wish I were, his inner monologue supplied as Spike spoke up. "Yeah, yeah. Keep your shirt on, Summers, I'm comin'." He rolled out of his bedroom, shutting the door, then moved fairly quickly to the elevator. "I don't see why you're so wound up about this," he commented when they were riding down the elevator. "It's just a movie."

Buffy glared at him. "Look, buddy, you're the one who suggested it. We got the movie, and I want to see it."

"But do we have to watch it right now?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like you have something better to do," she responded as she flounced over to the entertainment system, popping the DVD into the player. "Now sit down, shut up, and let me watch my movie."

He maneuvered onto the couch relatively easily, sitting back and resting his left arm along the backrest. She plopped down on the other side, pressing 'play' on the remote. The opening credits began to roll, and throughout the duration of the film, her eyes were glued to the screen, capturing every detail of the film.

"Next time I choose the movie," Buffy said dully at the end, her mind hazy with depression.

"You liked it though," Spike insisted.

"Yeah, it was great. Television addiction, mental illness, nasty-ass track marks, and, hey! Even some gratuitous lesbian sex! What's not to love?" she said sarcastically, putting Requiem for a Dream back in its case. "It's a beautifully-made movie, but I think that it needs a warning label."

"Something like, 'don't watch this unless your therapist tells you that you can handle it'?" Spike suggested, hoisting himself back into the wheelchair.

"Perfect," Buffy replied. "Ready for a session?"

"Um, luv," he said, gesturing to his wheelchair and the room, "Not to state the obvious, but shouldn't we be in my room for a session?"

"Probably," she conceded. "Let's go."

They moved back into the elevator, taking it up to the second floor. "Think I can move my leg again?" he asked as they approached his closed bedroom door.

"Don't know," Buffy said. "But I'm aiming to find out, even if it kills us both."

"That's comforting."

[Three Years Ago ~ NYC ~ Spring]

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Buffy grumbled, straightening her dress. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and slipped into her shoes, turning toward Dawn, who was putting on her earrings.

Dawn smiled amiably at her sister. "The Summers sisters have been single for too long," she said, applying a bit of lip gloss. "Besides, it's not like you're not setting me up with someone too..."

"Yeah, but Carlos is a great guy. I trust my taste in men." Buffy touched up her eye makeup.

"And my taste is completely different than yours," Dawn said dryly. "Buffy, we've liked the same type of guy for as long as I can remember. Besides, Spike is a complete sweetie."

"You're setting me up with a guy named *Spike*? Does he have a sister named Nail?"

The brunette stuck her tongue out at her sister. "Trust me, you'll love him."

The doorbell rang and Buffy and Dawn put the finishing touches on their makeup, then hurried toward the front door. Buffy opened it. "Carlos! Hi!" she exclaimed, hugging her friend. She stepped back. "You look great," she said. She turned to Dawn. "Dawn, this is Carlos. Carlos, this is my sister, Dawn."

"Nice to meet you," Dawn said shyly. She extended her hand and he took it, lifting it to his lips and brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

"Likewise," Carlos murmured.

Dawn blushed. "So, Buffy tells me you're an architect," she said.

A knock sounded at the door. Buffy stood. "You guys keep talking," she said, walking over to the door and opening it. Her jaw dropped and she slammed it shut once more. "Jehovah's Witnesses," the blonde explained to her sister. Moments later the doorbell rang. Buffy looked out the peephole, then sighed. She opened the door. "Welcome to our humble abode," she said without enthusiasm. "Won't you - "

"Thanks for the warm greetin', luv," Spike said, brushing past her into the penthouse, a fistful of flowers in his grip.

" - come in?" she finished. "*Dawn!*" she called loudly.

The brunette rushed to her sister's side. "What's wrong, Buffy? Hey, Spike, good to see you," she greeted, kissing him on the cheek. "Spike, this is Buffy. She's your date."

"Kitchen," Buffy said tightly, grabbing her sister's arm. "Now." The blonde dragged Dawn through the penthouse quickly, letting her go when they'd reached the kitchen. "Want to tell me what *he* is doing here?"

"I - "

"And don't try to tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about. You tried to set me up with him two years ago at your party." She folded
her arms, waiting for her sister's answer.

"And I'm pretty sure you would've hit it off if you hadn't been PMSing," Dawn retorted. "He's a great guy, just give him a chance."

Buffy shook her head. "No. No, there will be no chance-giving of any kind. I'm staying home, have fun."

"Buffy, please?" Dawn begged. "Carlos and I are really hitting it off, but I want you to come with us. Please?"

"No." She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, and took a swig.

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "You never drink," she commented.

"I'm trying to get drunk so you'll leave me alone," Buffy replied.

"Oh, no." Dawn snatched the bottle from her sister's hand. "You are going on this date. I don't care if I have to break your legs and tie you up in the car, you are *coming*."

"You reminded me of mom just now."

"Thanks," Dawn said, putting the bottle down on the countertop and pulling her Binaca from her clutch. "Open," she said.

Buffy opened her mouth at her sister's command, receiving a mouthful of powerful breath spray. "Great," she said. "Masking the taste of alcohol with alcohol."

"Now, you are going to go back into the living room, and you are going to do the smalltalk thing with Spike, and then we are going on this date and you," Dawn said, dragging Buffy back through the penthouse, "are going to have a *lovely* time."

"Fine," Buffy grumbled, eyeing Spike.

[End Flashback]

"Turned out to be a pretty good date, all things considered," Spike said, grunting as he pushed his foot against her hand.

"And the movie was good, unlike movies that some people rent..." Buffy teased.

Spike rolled his eyes. "You liked Requiem for a Dream, don't bother lyin'."

"Now that I'm mostly out of the depressed haze it left me in, yeah. It's a good movie." She picked up his other leg after placing the one she'd been working with back on the bedspread. "Push."

Beads of sweat popped up on Spike's forehead as he moved his leg against her palm. He relaxed a few seconds later.

"Great," Buffy commented. "We'll have you standing in no time."

"When do we get to use the bars?" Spike asked.

Buffy thought for a moment. "If you keep progressing at the rate you are now, I'd say next week sometime."

Spike smiled happily as she rotated his ankle. "So I'll be climbin' within months," he said wistfully, thinking of the mountains.

"One step at a time," Buffy said, rotating his other ankle. "First walking, then climbing."

"Yeah. But a bloke can 'ope, can't 'e?"

"Sometimes hope is all you have," Buffy said. "I remember this one patient I had. Professional racecar driver, got in a bad accident. I had to be the one to break it to him that he would never walk, let alone drive, again."

"Must be 'ard," he commented. "Tellin' folks that kind of thing."

"Luckily for you," she said, putting his foot down, "I didn't have to tell you any such thing."

~*~*~*~

The smell of lavender permeated the air around the pool room. Buffy sighed happily, sinking down into the hot tub a little further and allowing the jets of water to loosen her muscles. The voice of Josh Groban filtered through speakers hidden by large plants, washing over her. For Always was one of her favorite songs sung by him. The lyrics were very poetic. She hummed along slightly off-key, then dipped her head beneath the surface of the hot tub. She popped up, wiping water from her eyes and leaning back.

"For always, forever," she sung. "A thousand tomorrows may crest the sky..." She silenced, allowing his voice to take over the last few lines of the song.

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?" Spike asked from behind her. "I enjoyed your singing."

Startled, Buffy frantically reached for her bikini top, putting it on and fixing the clasp. "Nope, not interrupting," she said finally. "And thanks, but I like his voice better," she said, indicating the music that still played. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothin', thanks. I was just bored."

"You're not gonna make me watch another depressing movie, are you?" she asked.

"Nope. Just wonderin' if you'd like me to order a pizza for dinner." He paused. "Were you naked in there?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes...

"What makes you think that?" Buffy queried. "I was only topless."

That works too... "I was curious, is all," he said enigmatically. "So, pizza? Our other options are Thai or Indian."

"You seem set on pizza. Order away."

"What do you like?"

"Extra cheese and veggies," she said.

He made a face. "Vegetable pizza? Blech. Meat's the only way to go."

Buffy stood, climbing from the hot tub and wrapping a towel around herself. "So order half-and-half," she suggested, wringing out her hair.

"Yeah," he replied. "Good point."

Twenty minutes later, they were seated at the dining room table, munching on slices of pizza and drinking sodas. "So I was wonderin'..."

Buffy waited for him to finish his thought, but he didn't. "Wondering what?" she asked between bites.

"Nothin'," he hedged.

"No, you can tell me."

"It's not important," he insisted. "Never mind."

"You sure?" Buffy's expression changed from one of curiosity to one of concern.

He was silent for a moment. "Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, it's nothin'."

Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing. "Dawnie said she might come out to visit sometime," she said after a few moments.

Spike smiled. "I'd like to see 'er. When's that Carlos bloke gonna do right by 'er, anyway?" he asked.

"They've set a date for September," Buffy replied. "Now Dawn wants me to go dress shopping with her. I think she wants to get both of our gowns out of the way at the same time."

"Both of your gowns?"

"Yeah. Maid of Honor." She frowned. "I guess that means I get the most work next to her and the wedding planner..."

An image of Buffy walking down the aisle of a magnificently-decorated church, dressed in a frothy white gown, flashed through his mind. He smiled dreamily.

"What are you so happy about all of a sudden?"

"Jus' thinkin' about the fact that I'll be able to dance with 'er at 'er weddin'," he lied. He raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip of soda.

"That'll be great," Buffy replied. "She'd love that."

~*~*~*~

Buffy stretched, yawning loudly. "I'm tired," she said blearily. "Think I'll head off to bed."

"G'nite then," Spike offered, remaining seated on the couch in front of the television.

She walked up the stairs slowly, shuffling down the hall and into her room, where she immediately pulled her tank top over her head. She dropped her shorts on her way over to the bed, then crawled beneath the covers. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, and finally settled on her side with one arm beneath her pillow and the other grazing her stomach.

The latch of her door clicked and she sat upright, clutching the sheets to her naked breasts. Spike was silhouetted in the light from the hallway. He closed her door behind him, approaching the bed.

"Spike, what - " she began.

He cut her off by placing two gentle fingers against her lips. "Shh," he said, as he eased onto her bed and lowered his mouth to hers. One slightly calloused hand came up and cupped her cheek while he kissed her, his mouth exploring hers gently.

Buffy was too surprised to move for a moment, then she eagerly responded to his kiss, lips and tongue dancing with his. His tongue slipped between her parted lips, brushing against hers before swirling around it. Her hands came up, clutching at his shoulders and allowing the sheet to fall away. She let out a breathly little moan and fell back onto the pillows again as his other hand trailed across her shoulderblade and down, dancing over the flesh of her breast before enveloping it. His thumb brushed against her nipple and she gasped.

"Feel so good," he murmured, his lips leaving hers for a moment to trail down her throat, sucking on her pulse points. He moved atop her, and her thighs opened in response, allowing him to fall between.

"More," she whispered as his mouth trailed hotly downwards, teeth and tongue worrying sensitive flesh as he progressed. He dipped his tongue into her navel, sending spears of pleasure shooting through her as his mouth mimicked a deeper, more intimate penetration. She threaded her fingers through his hair as Spike's mouth traveled over her pelvic bone, his fingers dragging the sheet further down.

And then his lips and tongue were there and she gasped, her eyes open but unseeing as white-heat spiraled up and down her spine. Her entire body began to tremble as if electrocuted. "Spike... I can't... I..." she gasped, breaking off as she tensed up. A high-pitched, sobbing moan tore through her mere seconds later as she exploded in her climax.

Spike quickly crawled back up her body, situating himself between her legs. The head of his cock prodded her as his hips twitched, and he locked his eyes on hers, waiting for her permission. She nodded silently at her and he sank blissfully into her, his eyes rolling back and a heavy shudder vibrating his entire frame. He panted with exertion as he regained control of his senses. Resting on his elbows, he tilted his head and looked at her.

"What?" she half-moaned as he gave a shallow little thrust.

"Wake up," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. His hips began moving against hers, his thrusts deeper this time, but still unhurried. "Wake up," he said again, louder this time. "Wake up, Summers!"

"What are you talking..." she asked, trailing off as he vanished. She blinked, looking around. "... about?" she finished, noting her surroundings. She lay on the couch in the lounge, Spike sitting before her in his wheelchair.

"Finally," he said. "Little sis is on the phone."

Author's Note: Ooh, yeah... smut... ::doing the smut-dance:: And it's not even with the real couple! I love the amount of UST that I'm throwing into this story. It'll just build it up to when it actually happens, you know? Hehe. It's kinda scary, though, how quickly this expanded storyline is turning into a PWP. But we don't mind, do we? [Chorus of "Of course we don't!"] Next up on my writing list: I Hate You, Be Mine chapter 7. Gotta keep that one moving too... ~*~ Magz

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