A/N: Hey all! Thanks for all the reviews, they make me smile so much. Please do REVIEW though, make me smile. I don't give a damn about laugh lines and all that stuff! This is a two parter simply because I thought it was rather long. The lyrics are between the *'s.
Alrighty enjoy!
 
 

Chapter 11: Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps
 

*You won't admit you love me
And so how am I ever to know?
You only tell me
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps*

Spike sulked in a corner booth at Binkley's. He stared into his stout, the dark liquid that had no bottom. He wasn't drunk, regretfully, he was stone cold sober. He'd barely touched his drink, just stared into it, imagining the void within.

If only he could dive into it, surround himself in a cool darkness that tingled his senses. Drown himself in everthing......nothing....... anything but her. His persistent trouble maker, she was. His silver spoon stirring up his emotions. Lord, how she angered him, amused him to no end. She was his muse, her smile his aphrodisiac. Buffy never knew what she meant to him.

He loved her, but what was that, love? A simple four letter word that people used every day. I love you, Mum. I love my life. I love that sweater. Love is a saturated word, one used so often and so often with so little feeling behind it. Did the world even realize how they cheapened such a word?

Spike remembered something his dear mum said to him so long ago.

"Never say 'I love you' unless you mean it, William. For saying it too much reduces love to an obligation. When you love, love with everything you have inside of you. It is such an awe inspiring feeling, why shouldn't one feel it thoroughly and completely? Be complete, my William."

William loved his mum. He loved what she said to him, the way she said it, with such abandon! He wrote down her exact statement so he could always savor it, live by it, and he did.

Spike never took anything for granted, especially his love. It was all consuming. How could he possibly convey the totality of his affection? When he saw Buffy, saw her smile, saw her fight, the fire in her eyes during their arguments, when he saw her honesty, he saw his heart, alive, fresh, full of life walking around outside of his body, staring into his ice blue eyes, an undeniable part of him, the best part. She was the best thing to grace his sight. She was his, but more importantly, he was hers. She might not know it, she might not like it, but they were bound to each other by something more than a silly word. He felt it radiating off of her. He wasn't ready to admit and she wasn't ready to voice it. He loved her, but he wouldn't say it until she knew what it meant for him to say the words. To tell his heart what she was, the love of his life.

"Been waiting long?"

Spike looked up from his pilsner to see O'Malley. He was hoping to see him this evening. "You're right on time, mate."

"I didn't mean me, Spike. Shamus O'Malley is as punctual as a leprechaun ever was. No, I was referrin' to that look in your eyes."

Spike snorted and smirked at his comrade. "And what look is that, Shamus?"

"You look like you figured out the answer to a long plaguing question," he answered.

"You might say that. So, what have you got for me?" Spike finally gulped down his stout as his friend pulled up a coaster on the table.

~*~*~

Her violet eyes penetrated through the creature before her. Thick dark curls fell over her unnaturally pale skin. Her full rosy lips were set in a sneer, making her striking face show her deadly intentions.

"Tell me," Leila purred into the fledgling ear.

The demon shuddered at the sound of her voice. Anyone intune with the supernatural would feel the power pouring out of this woman. Everything about her was an oxymoron, wrong; the good and evil intentions were so strong.

"Tell me," she repeated, placing her long slender fingers around the demon's neck. "What do you have to say?"

"It's Spike," he rasps under her grip.

She loosened her hand at the sound of his name, but her features remained hardened. "What about him?" She tried to contain the anxiousness in her voice.

"The word's out all over town. He's been busy talking to everyone trying to find you."

"Well, he won't find me. I'm not going back."

"I don't think he wants to bring you in."

"What makes you say that?"

"Spike knew who to talk to. He wanted you to know he was looking for you, said something about 'next time being now.' That mean anything to you?"

She smiled, her eyes twinkled, she was beautiful at that moment, almost happy. "Actually, I do."

Her reverie of the bleached blonde vampire was interrupted by the demon once more. "So, how about that reward you promised?"

She set her eyes on the repulsive demon. This thing wanted his prize for delivering this sliver of information. Did he have any idea how irritable she could be? From the expectant look on his face, she guessed not. Well, she would give him a gift. "Of course," she finally replied.

She tightened her grip on the demon's throat. He tried to pry her off, but she was too strong for him. His yellow eyes rolled into the back of his head. She laughed at the sight. No simple demon could beat her, certainly never this weakling. She quickly closed her fist and crushed his neck, the sound of cracking spinal cord and the swish of splurting blood and tissue delighted her even more. Her tongue shot out of her mouth and languidly licked the spray from her face and ran it over her teeth. The vampire hidden inside of her always demanded blood.

Her joy ended abruptly when she looked down and saw the mess she made, the almost headless demon hanging limply from her fingers. She quickly released the body and stepped away from it. "Shouldn't have asked for a reward," she mumbled into her red stained hands. She shook her head slowly, back and forth, back and forth. "Shouldn't have asked. I gave you a reward," she insisted. "Who would want to live in this world anyway? I'm sure you'd thank me if you could." She turned and walked out of the alley, leaving the corpse for scavengers.

So, William the Bloody was out looking for her. How intriguing! She figured he returned to England when he found out about her disappearance. Oh, she was delighted. She hadn't seen Spike in two years, but she thought of him everyday. Besides the most obvious body parts to dream about, she dwelled on his eyes. They held such fire in their depths. For one whose touch was ice, he set her afire.

She walked the streets, ignoring the looks and cat calls of drunken men. She had changed a great deal in two years; she'd grown up in more ways than one. She felt her pulse elevate at the thought of showing Spike her improvements. She let her mind drift to their last conversation. How quick he was to disagree with all of her accusations. Had he reached his senses? Or was it a trap? One side of her screamed to let him be, but the other, the part that desired him and his fight, raged forth. She set out to the one place he was sure to be. God, she loved how well she knew him! Their encounters were always brief, but she retained so much from them. She studied him as one would a fine piece of art, memorizing every nuance, every curvature, everything that set him apart from the masses. It was all locked away inside her Gemini mind to use in whatever mood may overcome her.

~*~*~

Buffy's heart was just not in this, neither was her head. She sat at a table for two absently playing with her fork while Colin droned on about some case his father had him working on.

"And you really would not believe how quickly Quarium demons reproduce. It is really quite extraordinary." Buffy didn't respond. Colin peered over to her napkin and saw the connect-the -dots pattern his date made. "I suppose you aren't interested in the mating rituals of Quarium demons. Perhaps the sterilization of vampires would be appropriate."

Buffy lazily looked at her companion. "Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?"

Colin shrugged. "You are the Vampire Slayer. Aren't you interested in their makeup, what makes them them? I would imagine it would help in your stratagem."

"I know enough about vampires and their rituals. As far as strategy, hasn't changed much, pointy end of the stick through the heart works for me." Buffy took a gulp of her wine. "Now, why would you be interested in such a subject?"

"It was my thesis. I studied various species of demons, vampires included. The topic was a comparison between human and demonic relations with their own genus."

Buffy blinked her surprise. "I would think the Council would frown on anything comparing humans to demons."

"It did cause quite a stir until they realized I made some accurate arguments. They enjoy having someone with this extensive knowledge. That is why my father called me in to consult on Leila when I joined the Council. Unfortunately, she is a rare breed, nothing like her in all the world. Hybrids have been created, but never her combination."

"So, you haven't discovered anything lately?" Buffy asked, hoping he would continue his speeches and tell her something useful.

"Regretfully, no. Perhaps your vampire will have better luck. I'm told his methods of persuasion are...well...persuasive."

"He's not my vampire," she interjected.

~*~*~
 

*A million times I ask you
And then I ask you over again
You only answer
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps*
 

"Of course, my good lad," Shamus smiled. "The night of Leila's conception, the Malanto Destino, if you will, the mystical and demonic energies were thriving off of each other, countering each other. The night crackled and sparked from the pressure. And then there was a Slayer's daughter and a vampire."

"Now, here you lose me. How old was this Slayer? Or rather how young was the daughter?"

O'Malley crossed his legs and propped them up on Spike's ash tray. "The Slayer was thirty five and her daughter was sixteen." He noted Spike's disbelief. "I know what you are thinking, how could a Slayer live so long and not be legendary?" Spike nodded. "She was erased from the diaries once it became clear she would not be returning to this dimension.

The Slayer, one Nellie Fairbanks, was sent to another dimension to assist in an uprising, but she refused to leave her daughter behind. But, time became an issue, works differently over there, you see, and we couldn't go on much longer without a Slayer. So, there was a cover up and they relinquished all ties to Nellie."

"That's our Council," Spike snorted. They just abandoned that poor young woman and her child in a foreign land.

"But, she chose to stay, make a life for herself and the little one. But the uprising progressed into a full war." Shamus shook his head. "The energies that night exploded during conception burning most of the camps."

"That sounds like fun. Wish I knew about it. Dru and I could have had a bloody good time."

"Your intentions have been concentrated on less post mordum fields as of late," Shamus reminded the vampire. He may still try to be the creature he was years ago, but O'Malley knew Spike would never want to go back, not anymore. "She is something, my friend. I could feel her from outside the store."

"Try feeling her on another continent. Actually, don't, I wouldn't wish that one you."

"So," O'Malley began, leaning closer to Spike, "is it love for the vampire then? Has she bewitched you again?"
 

*If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started*
 

~*~*~

"Spike is his own man, a rather secretive one at that. I'm sure I'd be the last to know his true feelings."

"The lover always is," Colin commented before taking a sip of his white wine.

Buffy just let her mind wonder, trying to block out Colin's observations. But, nothing worked; her mind was stuck in a Spike warp, where every thought linked itself to him.

White wine. Spike drank red, always red. Red like blood, never white. White like the color he always wore, something is always white. Why did he change his clothes? Spike liked his dark shirts, red, blue, maroon, brown button down. Not a one in sight, save the occasional shade of blue. Blue like his eyes. He had his duster back, but never wore it. He loved that worn black leather prize, but it was stuffed in a closet, out of sight, out of mind. Off his body, as if it was locked away in a prison. His jacket was bad, black bad. White good, color of atonement.

"That's it!" Buffy exclaimed.

Colin stared at the Slayer, who had been quiet for some time. She had drifted off, but now her emerald eyes were alert and focused. "Pardon me?"

"Nothing," she said, slightly embarrassed at her very vocal outburst. But, she couldn't help it. "I cracked the code," she thought. "The Wardrobe Code. He doesn't wear the duster because it represents his evil days, and compensates with excessive use of white. How cute! No- no not cute. It's a bit extreme really, but if that is what he needs... He can't hide behind clothes though."

She made a deal with herself. Spike needed to tell her how he felt before she entertained notions of confessing her feelings. That way, she ensured any doubts of rejection. She couldn't be rejected by him, never him, always someone else, never him. He needed to chose.

~*~*~

"But, I don't want to talk about that," Spike told his friend as he knocked back his second Guinness and motioned to Binkley for another.

"It's not my area of expertise." O'malley reached for his thimble full of Spike's chosen liquid.

"Neither is it mine. So, keep talking about Leila. The Slayer's daughter and the vampire had a baby."

"In that dimension, yes. The Slayer was furious when she found out, even more so when she realized it was a trap. It wasn't star crossed lovers; just destiny, sick destiny, malanto destino. Nellie killed the baby's father so subsequently, the daughter was turned and killed before she could rise. Leila was left with a friend until the Council swooped in. They didn't know what they were getting themselves into."

"I'll drink to that." Spike raised his glass. "Cheers, mate."

"Slainte." O'Malley raised his thimble. "Well, my tale has been told. I must be off, passed my bedtime."

"Thanks, O'Malley. But, you'll come 'round tomorrow though."

O'Malley, nodded his agreement. "Wouldn't miss it. I'm looking forward to seeing that girl of yours. I think she put the color back in your cheeks." He stood and hopped onto the floor with ease. "Oh, and I'm glad you found your answer to your question."

Spike watched his friend scurry out of the pub. He then turned his confused blue eyes to his liquor. "I don't have any answers."
 

*And I don't want to wind up
Being parted, broken hearted*
 

"Should I stay? Should I go? Should I stay? Should I go?" Buffy rattled off her two choices repeatedly as Colin continued to bore her with tales of his research in...... Australia was it? Learning about the Fugarth demons courtship traditions.

"And then, if she accepts the offering of Koala claws and serpent feces-"

"I have to go," Buffy announced. She stood up and tossed her napkin to the table. "Sorry for this, Colin, but duty calls."

"Tonight is your night off," he reminded her.

"Slayers shouldn't get nights off."

She walked out of the restaurant and into the street. She didn't really know where she was, but remembered the flat was down a few blocks to the right. Buffy turned left, allowing her feet and instincts to guide her. Somehow she knew she find him or he would find her. It was on this optimistic note she found herself at O'Malley's store.

"O'Malley!" she called out, knocking on the door. He would know where to find Spike.

~*~*~
 

*So if you really love me, say yes
But if you don't, dear, confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps*

Spike sat for some time in his booth, melting into the pleather cushions and into the recesses of the shadows. So consumed was he with thoughts of his Slayer, her lips that gently touched is, her confident shoulders and her laugh that warmed him to the core, the scowl that turned him cold, that he failed to sense the woman who was now behind him. He just continued to think of her, what she was doing with Colin Travers. He was so insecure about their current status that his jealousy grew all the more. He knew Buffy's had as well. He forgave that, but it still didn't squelch the feelings of dread that sat in his chest when he thought about the two of them.

"Never would I wish such sorrow in those eyes."

Spike didn't even afford her a glance. "Not in the mood for your poetry, Leila."

"What are you in the mood for?" she cooed as she slinked into the seat across from him.

He looked up at her from under his lids. "Solitaire," he said.

"Easy to cheat in that game."

"I cheat life daily so this will be a piece of cake."

"Why so glum, Spike?" Leila stretched out, letting one of her legs slowly rub along the inside of Spike's.

"Damn it, Leila, I said I wasn't in the mood," he warned, kicking her away. "So, why don't you go on your merry way and leave me be before I decide to haul you into the Council."

Leila pouted and crossed her arms over her full chest. "Why don't you?"

"Not in the mood for that either," he said with a sigh. He roughly ran his fingers through his hair, causing the curls to spring up.

"Why don't you tell me why you want to see me then? Really, this conversation is rather dreadful when you don't want to talk about anything."

"How did you find me?" he asked, switching the focus of the conversation. Leila simply shrugged her shoulders. "I want to help you, Leila," he confessed, leaning over the table.

"Help me with what?" she wanted to know. "I'm fine since I got out. I don't need saving."

"And I'm no sodding savior. That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" she asked, bending forward until she was eye to eye with him.

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Spike, you know as well as I, you are the only one who has had the good fortune to beat me." A childish grin played on her face. Spike was taken aback at this, her face glowed with youth.

"Good fortune my ass. I can take you any time I want to."

"That you can, love, that you can," she agreed, her voice thick with innuendo. "But, you won't." She sat back and observed the vampire. It was all very touching, wanting to protect her. She knew he meant it, but she didn't want to be one of his charity cases. She wasn't just one of his damsels in distress; she wasn't distressed at all, she was in control and she loved it. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"It wasn't that long ago, pet."

"No, I suppose it wasn't, well, not for someone with an unlimited life span. But, to us mere humans, it's longer."

"You are no mere human, Leila."

"Then what am I?"

"A Gemini," Spike answered.

Leila let out a hard laugh, almost a cackle. "Yeah, Gemini, two halves fighting to be whole." She reached over and snagged Spike's drink, taking a healthy swig before placing it down again. "What are you?"

Spike rolled his eyes and finished what Leila started with his Guinness. The glass made a loud bang as he slammed it down, the hollow sound resonated through the wooden table. He hated this part of the conversation. Why did she have to get philosophical when he was just in the mood for good quality banter. He was getting tired, very quickly.

He stood up and threw a few notes down on the table. "I'm a vampire, nothing more, nothing less."

He left Leila there and welcomed the cool London fog, knowing full well he was being watched.

"You are so much more, Spike," Leila called out to him.

Spike looked into her haunting violet eyes. It was such an unnatural shade, one that demanded as much attention as Leila herself. Spike had seen her transfer from good girl to bad before. This vixen in front of him was trying to be both. It didn't fool the Master Vampire, very little did. This girl was not as comfortable as she thought. But, she was a beauty. Too bad she was so young and so crazy and he was so in love.

"I don't know what delusions you are sporting. I'm just a master Vampire going about his own business."

Leila chuckled at his surmise. She stepped into him, the familiar scent of Spike invaded her senses. She drank him in. "No one is fooled by you, Spike, least of all me."

Spike had had enough of people trying to decipher him. It was as if he was under a bloody microscope. "I'm done for tonight, pet. Run along; I'll find you later."

"How can you be so sure?" She took her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned.

"You want me to find you. You like the dance as much as I do."

"It's the vampire in me I suppose. Or maybe I just like seeing you."

"Can't imagine why, when you know I'll win in the end."

"Till then." She quickly took hold of him and smashed her lips to his. They were soft, firm and so cool.

Spike knew her intentions and gently pressed back into her warmth. Their lips tangled with each other for only a moment before Spike pulled back. He leaned against the pub wall and fished out his cigarette. He put one in his mouth, letting it dangle from his full mouth. "Till next time then."

Leila laughed, the eerie music broke through the otherwise quiet night. Without saying a word, she turned and vanished into the black.

Spike slowly lit his smoke and waited. It wouldn't be long now.
 

*If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started*

One......Two.....Three......

"What do you think you are doing?"

Spike looked up at the brassed off Slayer. "Waiting for you to come over here."

Buffy ripped the offensive white object out of Spike's mouth. She smashed her shoe on it. "You said you weren't interested in her."

Spike pulled out another cigarette. "I'm not."

Buffy took that away as well, grinding the unlit cylinder beyond recognition. "You kissed her!"

"Damn it, Slayer! These do cost money you know. And besides, she was kissing me. If you're gonna spy at least get it right."

"You didn't push her away," Buffy countered.

Spike just gave a chuckle and walked towards the flat, Buffy hot on his heels.

"So, I let her kiss me. It will help us."

"How is having your tongue rammed down her throat helpful? She's just going to go nuts when she realizes what you are doing."

Spike groaned. Why was she being so thick? "Like we hoped, Leila still fancies me. She kissed me once, now she can't wait to do it again."

"You think that well of yourself?"

"Yes, I do," his answer clipped. "I also know Leila. She's impatient."

They walked home, silence crept over them for only a few blocks before Buffy grumbled.

"I don't like this."

"You've made that abundantly clear, Slayer."

"And yet you don't listen."

Spike cocked his head to the side and stared at her. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid you are going to screw this up and have only a few lip locks to show for it!" Buffy's chest heaved with her ragged breath and her eyes shone with intensity.

"Are you jealous?"

The Slayer scoffed at that. "Why would I be jealous of you making smoochies with some child?"

"You tell me." He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets as he waited for an answer.

"I'm not jealous. It just bothers me. Is this how you get your kicks now? Seducing unsuspecting psychopaths, trying to relive Druscilla?"

Spike stopped dead. He couldn't bear to look at Buffy, afraid he would smack her. He trained his gaze into the ever present gauze surrounding them. "Count, Spike," he told himself. "One blow to her face. Two kicks to the gut. Three roundhouse kicks, knocking her to the ground.....and endless kisses to make up for the damage. Bloody hell, I'm such a soddin' poof! God damn it!"

"If memory serves me, Slayer," he began, finally settling his stone cold gaze on her, "I turned down Dru years ago. Tried to kill her, for you actually."

"Not the most enticing gift I've ever received from a man," she said, deadpan.

Spike stepped away from her. "Never had to give you material gifts to entice you."

Buffy's hand swung at his face, but he deftly caught it millimeters from his nose. Buffy watched awestruck as Spike took her hand to his lips. He gently placed light kisses on each of her knuckles, lingering above every one before moving on to the next one. His eyes stayed with her, daring her to react.
 

*And I don't want to wind up
Being parted, broken hearted*

"Is it always about sex with you?" she asked. It was meant as an insult, but her breathy voice did little to offend.

Spike laughed to the skies and released her hand. "I'm not some cheap nymphomaniac, Buffy, contrary to popular belief. But, I haven't been celibate for the past five years, neither have you I might add. For Christ's sake, Buffy, you were engaged to be married. Married! You don't see me hassling you about that, do you?"

"I've been waiting for you to bring him up."

"I'm not." Spike started up the street once more, the house was in sight now. Soon, he'd be inside and away from her. She was upset and confused. Buffy loathed confusion. But, as long as she was going to revert to her defense mechanism, which was insulting him, he didn't want to be around her. She needed to get over herself and trust in him. "There's nothing more I want to know."

Buffy jogged to catch up to him. "You've got to be kidding me. I know you want to know what happened."

"No, I don't," he replied, flatly. "I know all I need to know."

"You know nothing." Buffy's voice coated with acid as she said the words. He had no idea what she went through.

"I know you didn't marry him." She had no comeback for that. The simple sentence spoke volumes.

"Don't you want to know why?" she whispered.

Spike had an answer, but he didn't voice it. Of course he wanted to know! He always wanted to know what happened to prevent the culmination of Buffy Summer's perfect family dream. Bit didn't know and he didn't push, much. Dawn apparently pushed more though. All Spike knew was she ended it, or he ended it; it was ended. Spike was curious what he was like. He wouldn't like him, that was a given. Dawn seemed to tolerate him well enough. When asked if he was good enough for her, Dawn replied, "I'm a little biased." Did she love him? "She says she does." Is she smiling? "Yes, she's smiling." That satisfied him. Until one day, she wasn't smiling and the engagement was off. Spike never felt such a cocktail of sadness, relief and guilt over that relief.

What a silly question! Yes, he wanted to know every detail, but he didn't tell her that.

"What if I wanted to tell you?" Buffy ventured after more deafening silence. "Would you listen?"

"I always listen, Buffy."

She nodded, her anger disappeared and she now seemed, dare he think it, embarrassed. She didn't look directly at him and her voice was low and shaky. "Good to know."

They stood toe to toe outside the house. Spike felt like a schoolboy dropping off his girl at the door, waiting for a sign she wanted to see him again. A smile, a kiss on the cheek, kiss on the lips, or a slow back step as she made her way up the stoop, never taking her eyes off of him until she had to turn and go greet her parents. As a human, William never had luck with courtships, even as a young and foolish child. As a result, he began to fidget, his booted foot repeatedly tapping the stairs.

Buffy watched his display with earnest. He looked adorable, trying to figure out what to do next. His honest face showed her all the uncertainty he felt and she was sure hers did the same. They eventually locked eyes. Buffy nibbled on the side of her mouth. Spike's mouth hung openly slightly, his tongue making an appearance ever few seconds to rewet his drying lips.
 

*So if you really love me, say yes
But if you don't, dear, confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps*

The tension was getting unbearable and both had decided it needed to end someway. They slowly leaned into each other, their lips getting closer and closer-

"There you two are!"

Blue and green eyes widened and turned to the door. They had been caught...by the father.

~*~*~
 

On a personal note: Part of the speech Will's mum gave, my mom actually gave to me as a child. One of those things that stick with you.