Broken


A/N: Well, you can see how well that not-procrastinating thing went... Anyway, I've found writing fanfic a nice break from revision. Because of it though, updates won't be as regular as I usually manage. Anyway, enjoy...

Warning: There will be Bangel. This is season 2/3 after all. It won't be graphic but if you don't like, remember I warned you!

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She had doubted herself before, doubted whether she had it in her to do this. But now she knew. Now, facing off against the cruel face of the man she had loved, she knew she would do what she had to do. She would stop Angelus before anyone else could get hurt. It wasn’t going to be an easy task though: he was a more than capable swordsman, as she was quickly learning. Every lunge of hers was blocked with an ease that made her grit her teeth. But she would not let it get to her- she would keep fighting until she had won. Simple as that.

He knocked her to the floor but she quickly rolled back onto her feet, meeting his sword with her own, matching his cruel smile with her own.

“Now, isn’t this fun, lover? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She said nothing and swung for him again. She wasn’t going to let him play mind games with her. She was clearly focussed on her aim now and she could tell it was working when in the next moment she managed to slash his arm. He pulled back ever so slightly, giving her a leer as he licked the blood from his arm.

“You’ve almost got me convinced,” he smirked, “But I don’t think you really want to kill me, do you, Buff?”

“You just remember that when your dust’s blowing in the wind, okay?”

He laughed and flew at her again but she turned and spun, her sword slashing his back as he flew past her. He rounded and growled loudly and she gave him a pleasant smile.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked sarcastically, carefully watching him for his next move.

He growled again and rushed her and their swords clashed with a clang of metal. She realised his anger was making him sloppy now and she took her advantage, pushing him away with a firm kick to the stomach that sent him sprawling to the ground. She stalked towards him and with one flick of her sword, sent his flying from his hands. And he just lay there, looking up at her and smiling.

“Come on, Buff.”

She took a deep, calming breath and forced her cold gaze to his.

“Get on your knees,” she ordered, sword just touching his neck.



He was still for a few moments before, with a smile as if humouring her, he got to his knees, still smiling as his eyes met hers.

“You can’t do it, Slayer.”

“You wanna bet?” she countered, but even she knew she was stalling. But she had to do this- had to rid the world of this menace. She hefted her sword and in the few seconds of opportunity, Angelus lunged, tackling her to the ground and sending her sword clattering to the floor a few metres away. His advantage meant he quickly had her pinned, heavy body on top of hers, hands scrabbling with hers to try and restrain her.

Somehow, though, she managed to break free, elbowing him in the chin and rolling free. He laughed and got to his feet at the exact same moment as her, both now reunited with their swords.

“I expected better of you, Buffy,” he commented in fake disappointment.

“I’m not done yet,” she retorted, this time going on the offensive and lunging for him, sword outstretched. He laughed again and countered her blow, deflecting her easily. She spun and went at him again, refusing to let him get to her. She would do her duty. She flew at him again and again and finally pulled back, having made no hits at all. He smiled that twisted smile and hefted his sword as if it were a plaything.

“That all you got, Buff?”

She narrowed her eyes and went for him once again, spinning and managing to catch him just under the arm. He growled and stumbled back and she followed him, lunging at him again. He just managed to raise his sword in time to meet hers and threw her backwards. His hand went to the cut and he narrowed his eyes, a hint of a smile playing about his lips.

“Just a-“



He faltered and she frowned, not understanding what had made him stop so suddenly. She looked around quickly, wondering if maybe Spike or Drusilla had made an appearance, but it was just them. Her attention was quickly drawn back to him when he gave a gasp of pain and sunk to his knees. At the exact same moment, she heard a harsh cry sound out from some far corner of the mansion but she ignored it, sword gripped tightly in her hands as she approached the kneeling vampire.

He was gasping for breath and then he let out a moan. Not knowing what to say, she stopped just out of reach, sword still pointed at him in case he moved. Suddenly he looked up though and her heart almost stopped at the look in his eyes. No, it couldn’t be.

“Buffy?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with pain, “Buffy, what’s going on? Where am I?”

This had to be a trick. Some cruel device of Angelus’ to put her off-guard. But his eyes…

“Buffy?” he asked again in confusion, eyes darting to the sword in her hand.

“You don’t remember?” she asked quietly.

“I… What’s going on here?”

He suddenly seemed to notice the sword in his own hand and as if scalded, he dropped it quickly, looking up at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes. And she knew.

“Angel?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Buffy, I-“

He suddenly cut himself off and he squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorted in pain.

“Angel?” she got out, sword falling from her hand as she went to him, falling to her knees in front of him. She reached out with a shaking hand and touched her fingers to his face and his head whipped up, that tortured look she knew well in his eyes.

“What have I done?” he murmured.

She couldn’t help herself then- she burst into tears, her chest heaving as she sobbed out her pain.

“Buffy, Buffy,” he repeated over and over, pulling her into his arms, “What have I done? Oh Buffy.”



She didn’t know how long they sat there, her sobs penetrating the silence of the garden along with his tortured whispers. She finally pulled back, eyes bright with tears as she reached out to touch his face.

“Is it really you?” she choked out.

“It’s me, Buffy. I- I love you.”

That set her off again and she buried her head in her hands, crying for all that she had lost in such a short time. Angel drew her close again and she rested her head against his chest. She didn’t know how this could have happened – unless Willow had finally been successful with the spell. To think, just minutes ago she had been trapped in a fight to the death with him. If she had killed him… No, she wouldn’t think like that.

She pulled back again, needing to see him, needing to see Angel looking back at her instead of his cruel alter ego. She traced her fingers shakily over his cheek, lip trembling.

“I tried to kill you,” he whispered painfully.

“It’s okay now,” she got out, unable to stop herself from leaning forward and kissing him. He caught her to him, kissing her hard, but then he was pushing her away and she knew he was afraid.

“Buffy-“

“I know,” she whispered.

Their physical relationship was what had brought about this hell and there was no way they could risk it happening again.



She pulled back but her hand went to the arm she had wounded.

“I hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine. Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, unable to bring herself to speak, trying to hold back the tears.

“We should get out of here,” she murmured, wanting more than anything to get away from this place full of such painful memories, “I need to tell the others that… that everything’s okay now.”

They clambered to their feet and she wrapped an arm around the still-dazed vampire.

“Buffy, where-“

“I need to get out of here.”

“You should kill me.”

“No!” she blurted out, stopping and turning to him with wide eyes, “Don’t say that!”

“But… Jenny… and Giles-“

“That wasn’t you,” she said firmly.

She saw him pause for a moment but then he ducked his head, avoiding her gaze. Together, they moved back into the mansion, through the dark rooms and towards the large door to the street.

Just as they reached the door though, she finally attuned her ears to the strange sounds she had been hearing. She stopped and frowned, listening intently. Somewhere hidden in the mansion, there was movement and what sounded like desperate cries. She had been so caught up in Angel she hadn’t noticed, but now she hesitated.



“Buffy,” he called, reaching out to take her arm.

“Can you hear that? What is it?”

She frowned, peering into the darkness surrounding her – and suddenly, out of the darkness, a shriek and before she knew what was happening, Drusilla was rushing her. She lashed out with her nails, eyes wild with hatred, fangs bared and Buffy hardly knew what to do. Then Angel caught the vampiress, restraining her with some effort. Drusilla wouldn’t take her eyes off her though.

“Noooo! Slayer… you’ve taken them away!”

There was just one question going through her head though: where the hell was Spike?

“She shouldn’t be here,” she murmured, turning to Angel, rolling her eyes at the crazy vampiress’ shrieking.

“What do you mean?”

“That was the deal. Spike and Drusilla got out of here, while I…” she trailed off, averting her eyes.

Her gaze drifted to the vampiress, who seemed to have calmed somewhat in Angel’s grip but who looked distraught. And she kept shrieking still, crying ‘No!’.

“Taken them away… all gone. Left me all alone…”

She turned away from the vampiress and moved her attention to the left wing of the house. That was where the strange sounds could still be heard, muffled by the distance. She began to move warily into the darkness, glancing back over at the vampires behind her.

“If she’s still here when I get back, she’s dust,” she said to Angel and he nodded, turning his attention to Drusilla.



Angel caught up with her just along the corridor.

“I couldn’t kill her,” he commented, that tortured look back in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, still attuned to the strange noises that were getting louder now. It was like an animal whining and a person crying at the same time and she thought she heard brief snatches of words. She reached for a stake but found she had none and so clenched her fists tightly, ready to fight whatever threat she found.

As they got closer, she noticed Angel listening intently and then he stiffened, pained eyes moving to hers.

“We should just go, Buffy.”

She frowned and turned back towards the sound.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He did not reply and with a frown, she moved onwards, steps light and silent as she progressed through the darkened mansion, Angel just behind her. She paused at the door to the room from which the sound seemed to be coming and glanced at Angel, whose eyes were on the floor. She couldn’t understand his behaviour and turned away, taking a deep breath and kicking the door open.



At first, she could make out nothing in the dark room but then her gaze was drawn to the figure crouched in the corner. It took her a moment to recognise the huddled figure with his face buried in his hands and yet another to realise that the sounds she had heard – those tortured cries and the pained whining – were coming from him. Her hand flew to her mouth in horror, eyes going wide as she took in the devastating sight before her.

The sight of a master vampire curled up, hands tugging at his hair, his mouth parted in a crazed litany of pain. The sight of Spike, her former enemy and one-time ally, completely broken.

Compassion


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She just stood there in stunned silence, wide eyes taking in the howling, keening vampire. It was only when Angel took her elbow that she snapped out of her daze, her eyes flying to his.

“What happened to him?”

Even as she asked, she remembered the cry that had echoed through the mansion at the same time as Angel had dropped to his knees. Angel confirmed her suspicion the next minute as he spoke up.

“The same thing that happened to me.”

She looked between the two vampires - the one cowering and the other looking close to normal – and frowned. As if picking up on her silent question, Angel turned his attention on his grandchilde.

“It’s much worse the first time round,” he explained, his face softening into a compassion she wouldn’t ever have imagined him feeling for Spike.


She turned back to the younger vampire and knew her expression too was one of compassion, and at the same time, horror. Was this what Angel had gone through when that gypsy had cursed him first time round? She couldn’t even imagine what either of them had suffered. Having all that bad history suddenly forced on you – and caring about it for the first time in hundreds of years.

With this thought, she knew what she had to do and it galvanised her into motion. With a glance at Angel, she began to edge towards the other vampire, careful not to frighten him.

“Buffy-“ Angel hissed but she held up a hand, silencing him as she edged forward.



She finally stopped about two steps away from the blonde vampire – who still seemed too caught up in his misery to notice her – and crouched down. She reached out a shaking hand and laid it on his arm.

“Spike,” she whispered.

He jerked away from her touch, curling up on himself even more and now she was this close, she could hear the pained words he was repeating over and over.

“Didn’t mean… blood… didn’t want to hurt… dead…”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and reached for him again.

“Spike.”

Her hand rested just on his shoulder and even though he tensed with her touch, he didn’t pull away this time.

“It- It’s okay, Spike.”

He cowered then and a sudden thought occurred to her, making her pull back slightly.

“William?” she whispered and she didn’t miss the flash of attention it gained, before he went back to his pained mumbling.

Before she could say or do anything else though, Angel caught her by the arm, pulling her to her feet and guiding her to the other side of the room. She looked up at him then in a mixture of anger and confusion.

“It’s not safe,” he murmured, flicking a glance at his grandchilde.

She took a deep breath and let it out and shook off Angel’s arm.

“He needs our help.”



She glanced back over at Spike and her face twisted in sympathy as he let out a low keen.

“The only way we can help him is by putting him out of his misery.”

Her head snapped back to Angel then and she couldn’t help but gasp, astounded at what he had suggested.

“How... you… You went through this. How can you say that?”

“Because I went through this. It’s nothing but pain for years.”

“That’s because you didn’t have anyone,” she got out angrily, turning away from him, still reeling from what he had suggested.

“Buffy,” he called, catching her arm again and stopping her, “Why do you want to help him so much? He’s tried to kill you.”

She decided not to point out that he had been trying to do the same thing not twenty minutes ago and took a deep, calming breath.

“I want to help him because it’s the right thing to do. And because he helped me.”

“He what?”

“The only reason I knew about Acathla was because of Spike,” she bit out, shaking off his hand and turning away from him.

She had been so happy and relieved to have her Angel back, but already those feelings were changing into something different, something new. If she hadn’t already realised it, his time as Angelus would change their relationship forever.



She edged her way over to Spike again and knelt down beside him. She restrained from touching him this time, hoping not to spook him but moved closer, lowering her voice.

“William?”

He curled up further, his face pressed to the wall but she wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“It’s okay. It’s me, Buffy. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She paused, unable to resist glancing back at Angel, who was watching her with a plain expression. She turned back to Spike and moved so she was in his eyeline.

“I want to help you.”

The only sign that she was getting anywhere was the fact that he had stopped that awful keening and was silent now, although he was still huddled up protectively, his hands twisted in his hair, rocking himself slightly.

“William,” she said again, unable to stop herself from reaching out and laying a hand on his arm.

“Take it away… too many… can’t… make it stop…”

In the middle of his ramble, his eyes suddenly flew to hers, blue locked on hazel for a full few seconds.

“Take it away.”

But then he looked away again, lost in his pain and his misery. And she was lost as to what to do. She couldn’t take him home because even she wasn’t welcome in her own home anymore. And she doubted Giles wanted to be anywhere near a vampire right now.



Knowing Angel would not like it, she gave a sigh and turned to him, even as she stayed close to Spike.

“I think he’ll have to stay here,” she commented quietly.

Angel had been looking at the wall but now his eyes flew to hers and he frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t… there’s nowhere I can take him. I understand that you… maybe you don’t want to stay…” she trailed off, thoughtful as she looked at Spike and then turned back to Angel, “I’ll stay here with him.”

“Buffy, no.”

She forced her gaze to Angel’s, her anger almost completely disappearing at the softness in his voice. God, she had missed that soft tone.

“I have to.”

“You don’t. I… I’ll help him.”

She was more than surprised by Angel’s sudden about-face and her eyes widened.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Buffy.”

She was silent for a moment, nodding slightly and then she gave him a wry smile.

“I kinda have to stay anyway. My mom kicked me out.”

“What?!”

“She knows I’m the Slayer and she didn’t like it. And I had to come here and she told me if I left, I should never-“

She couldn’t continue as a sob burst from her and she turned her face away awkwardly, hand wiping at her eyes.



She jumped, startled, as a hand rested on her shoulder and she quickly spun to face Spike. His eyes met hers for a moment, but then he looked away, pressing his face against the wall again. She wiped her eyes again and forced herself not to think about her mother. After all, she had bigger things to worry about now.

She took a calming breath and shook her shoulders to ease the tension in them. She reached out to run a hand gently over Spike’s hair but recoiled as he suddenly turned to her in full game-face. And for a moment, she was sure this was all a trick, until she saw his eyes. Even now, yellow and angry, she could see the pain in his eyes and she knew that it was an unconscious reaction, his demon probably reacting to the nearness of a Slayer.

“It’s okay,” she whispered one last time before rising to her feet and turning to Angel. “I need to go talk to Willow… find out how this happened. But then I’ll be back.”

“Do you want me to…”

“No,” she answered quickly and then smiled sadly, “I think it’s probably best if I go alone.”

Angel nodded, that pained look back in his eyes, and she stepped forward, stopping within inches of him. She reached out awkwardly and pressed her hand to his chest.

“Angel, please look after him. I know it’s hard for you… but, please, do this for me.”

He was silent but then his expression softened and he nodded, a hand reaching up and brushing over her hair. She closed her eyes with the tenderness of his touch, relishing what she had missed for so long. Finally though, she forced herself away, knowing now that any touch could be dangerous.

“I’ll be back.”

He nodded and with one last look at Spike, she left the room and made her way through the darkened mansion and out into the street.

Surprise


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The entire group was gathered at Willow’s bedside and as soon as she walked in, the room fell silent, worried eyes flying to her.

“Buffy! Are you okay?” Xander asked, rising to his feet.

Biting her lip to suppress her emotions, she nodded, forcing a weak smile.

“The spell worked,” she explained, gaze turned on Willow.

“Oh God, really?” the witch whispered, sitting up in the bed, “Is Angel-“

“He’s back at the mansion. I thought it was probably best.”

The room fell silent again and she forced her gaze to Willow’s once more.

“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling herself getting teary even as she did.

“It was nothing.”

“No. You stopped me from having to…”

Willow nodded and gave her a weak smile.

Tired now, she moved over to a spare chair and wondered how on earth she was going to tell them what had happened. She raised her gaze once more, her eyes flicking over her Watcher and turning back to Willow again.

“In fact, you get like twice the congratulations.”

“Huh?” Willow got out in confusion.

“I don’t know what happened here… but when you did the spell… I mean I’m sure that wasn’t what you meant to do… but-“

“Buffy,” Giles interrupted with that exasperated tone she knew so well and she gave him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.”

“What happened?” Willow asked, “Did something go wrong with the spell? Is Angel okay?”

“Oh no, he’s fine,” she reassured her friend, “Well, you know, kinda… troubled. But yeah, he’s Angel again.”



“So what’s the problem?” Xander asked.

“Angel wasn’t the only one the spell affected,” she finally got out, looking around at her friends.

“What do you mean, he wasn’t the only one?” Giles asked incredulously, “You mean other vampires were affected?”

“One other vampire,” she replied, “Spike.”

The room was completely silent and as she looked around at her friends, she noted the complete shock etched on each of their faces.

“Spike?” Giles repeated, the first to shake himself out of his daze.

She nodded, an image of the broken vampire flashing before her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Xander asked, “I mean, he could just be faking it.”

She saw him again in her mind’s eye, keening, curled up tightly and hiding his face.

“Really not faking it,” she murmured, “He’s…”

She looked down at the floor and bit her lip, squeezing her eyes closed as she fought with her emotions.

“Buffy?” Giles prompted.

She forced her gaze to her friends and sighed.

“Have you ever thought what it must be like? To suddenly have a conscience forced upon you and to remember every horrible thing you’ve done?”

Once again, she saw Spike before her, those blue eyes so tortured when he had met her gaze.

“I never thought it would be like that. I guess I just thought, you know, it was kinda painful for a minute or so but then you dealt with it.”

She had been so wrong, so foolish. Even knowing Angel had suffered with his soul, she had never imagined just how much. There was still silence and she could feel all eyes on her as she twisted her hands together anxiously.

“He’s so… so broken,” she whispered, “It’s… kinda scary.”



The silence continued for a good minute until she raised her head again.

“But I… I’m going to help him.”

“Buffy!” Xander exclaimed, the first to react, wide eyes looking at her disbelief, “What do you mean you’re going to help him?! He’s a vampire!”

“I know that,” she answered, “But he… he’s in so much pain. I can’t just let him suffer like that.”

There was a pause and then Giles spoke up and she turned to him, knowing that his opinion would mean everything.

“It must be exceedingly traumatic, I’m sure,” he mumbled, half to himself, removing his glasses and polishing them on his jumper, “And he is only the second vampire in history to have his soul restored. It’s all quite fascinating.”

“It’s not fascinating,” Buffy answered firmly, surprising herself and Giles, “It’s horrible.”

“Well, quite,” he answered embarrassedly, replacing his glasses, “But, Buffy, are you sure it’s a good idea to get involved? After everything you went through with Angel.”

“I have to help him, Giles. It’s my fault-“

“Buffy, do not make yourself feel bad. This is a blessing in disguise.”

Somehow she doubted Spike would see it like that.

“Though he is suffering now, I am sure Spike will learn to cope, as Angel has done… and do you realise what this means? It means the Slayer of Slayers has been tamed.”



By the time Giles had finished, she was seething inwardly and at the same time, embarrassed. She rose awkwardly, clutching her hands together.

“I really should get back. I left them both and I’m sure that’s not really going to be good for either of them.”

She was already at the door when Giles spoke up, halting her momentarily.

“Are you not going to see your mother?”

She faltered, a rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, but she forced them down and shook her head.

“Apparently she doesn’t approve of my calling,” she said bitterly, “So I’m staying at the mansion.”

“Buffy-“

She was already out the door when Giles called after her and she didn’t stop as she called back to him over her shoulder.

“I’ll phone you tomorrow and let you know what’s going on. Look into what happened with the spell.”

She sped up her steps then, needing to get out the hospital and into the fresh air where she could think clearly. As soon as she was outside, she stopped and took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.

Finally, after a few minutes, she righted herself and set off across town. She realised both vampires would need blood and stopped at one of Sunnydale’s increasing number of all-night butcher’s to pick up supplies.



As she walked back through town, she passed her house and couldn’t help pausing for a moment, gaze flicking longingly to her mother’s window. She shook her head and forced herself onwards, noticing as she did that the sun was just starting to come up. Was it really morning already? It seemed to have been the longest night of her life.

At the beginning of it, she had been despairing but at the same time confident in the knowledge that she would not let Angelus get away this time. And now… now her emotions were so confused, so jumbled. She was so relieved to have Angel back but she was so torn up inside: half of her was still desperately in love with him but half of her couldn’t help but hate him for what he had done to her and her friends over the past few weeks. And then this whole thing with Spike. Her heart ached for him, for his pain.

Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly feeling peppy when she finally reached the mansion and let herself in.

Nightmare

Two updates today to tide you over for the weekend. Hope you enjoy...

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The mansion was swathed in darkness and silence as she went in, listening intently, expecting to hear that keening again. But Spike was silent for now and she took it as a blessing, hoping that he had been able to sleep. She went through to the large open living room and placed the bags of blood down on the table, giving herself time to prepare to face the vampires again.

Suddenly, a figure moved in the darkness though and she jumped back, startled, expecting Drusilla but finding Angel instead.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly.

“Try not to sneak up on me then,” she answered just as softly, smiling at him.

She so wanted to be angry but now, seeing him, her heart and her body simply reacted for her, smiling and singing for joy with his nearness.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, “I brought blood for you both.”

“I’m fine.”

She smiled and he moved further into the room, seemingly lost in thought.

“How’s Spike?” she asked carefully and he frowned, turning towards her and unconsciously rubbing his arm.

“Not much better. I left him alone.”

“You… what? Why?”

“He lashed out at me as soon as you left,” he explained softly.

“Oh,” she got out, “I guess… maybe it’s because you’re his family and… I don’t know. Bad reminder or something.”

“Maybe.”



They fell silent and she sought for something to say, but soon gave up. There were still lots of things they needed to talk about, but she just wasn’t ready to do it yet. She sighed and grabbed one of the bags from the table.

“I should check on Spike. Bring him some blood.”

“Don’t!” Angel blurted out and she frowned, turning to him in surprise.

“I’m sure he’s hungry-“

“And I’m sure blood’s the last thing he’ll want to see right now, Buffy.”

“Oh.”

That stilled her. She hadn’t thought about it at all but of course Spike wouldn’t exactly be blood-happy right now. She shook her head and with a sigh, replaced the bag on the table, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“I didn’t think.”

She jumped when Angel was suddenly right in front of her but relaxed when his hands came to rest on her arms, caressing them gently.

“It’s okay. You just want to help, I know.”

She nodded and leant forward, resting her head against his chest and breathing in his scent. She couldn’t help letting out a yawn and closed her eyes briefly as his hand stroked over her hair. God, she had missed having him hold her.

“You need to rest. It’s been a long night.”

“The longest,” she replied, raising her head and giving him a wry smile.

He smiled and squeezed her arms gently.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep?”

“Sounds like a really good plan,” she murmured sleepily, unable to stop another yawn, “I’ll just check on Spike quickly and then I’m bed-girl.”

She moved from Angel’s embrace but he caught her arm, halting her and drawing her back to him.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” he murmured, dark eyes holding hers.

“I know,” she whispered, reaching up and kissing him softly.



She forced herself away and with another small smile, turned and made her way out of the room. She climbed the stairs and made her way along the corridor to the room Spike was in – his room, in fact. She reached the door and quietly opened it, hoping not to wake him if he finally had some peace.

As the door opened though, it revealed to her a horrific sight: Spike was standing in the centre of the room, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window and staring blindly at his hands as they began to burn. Without a second’s hesitation, she threw herself at him with a cry, tackling him to the floor. She pinned him to the floor, even though he made no move to struggle, and tried to get her heart’s pounding under control. She was shaking as she closed her eyes, fighting to prevent her tears.

She knew exactly what he had been trying to do and if she was really honest, she wasn’t completely surprised with the state he was in. If Angel hadn’t left him though… Her worry blended with her anger, only making her shake even more – until she realised it wasn’t just her shaking. She looked up at the vampire to find him trembling as silent tears traced down those high cheekbones.

“Make it… make it stop,” he muttered helplessly, eyes wide and pained, boring straight into her.

She scrambled off him and helped him to sit, instinctively holding him to her, her hand passing over his hair.

“I can’t,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He began to sob in earnest then, every anguished cry tugging at her, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Please don’t do that again,” she begged hoarsely, wrapping her arms around him tightly.



She didn’t know if it was a reaction to her words or not, but the next minute, he shoved her away and retreated to his corner, curled up in ball again, hands twisted in his hair as he hid his face against his knees.

“Hurts… hurts… can you hear them? All the time… I can’t get them to stop.”

She wiped at her eyes helplessly, forcing herself to her feet and turning her back on him as she rushed to close the curtains. She stood there a long time, hands clutching the fabric, fighting her emotions. She was so tired, so exhausted and worried and she wasn’t made for this. Could barely look after herself, let alone a crazed and anguished vampire.

But she had made him a silent promise, from that first moment, and she couldn’t walk away now. She would help him even if it killed her. And she couldn’t help thinking that – annoying as he had been – she kind of missed the old Spike: the cocky, arrogant Spike who would taunt her and fight her. She glanced over her shoulder at him and her heart went out to him again: he was barely half the man he had once been.

She finally forced herself away from the window and sat in a large chair beside it, curling her legs up underneath her and draping her jacket over her. Exhausted as she was, even Spike’s low moaning couldn’t keep her awake and almost as soon as she rested her head against her knees, she was fast asleep, her dreams plagued with sounds of pain and torture.



She woke some time later to a hoarse cry and she raised her head sleepily, eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room and picking out Spike’s sprawled figure in one corner. He was sleeping, finally, but judging by the cries and his expression, even his sleep was full of pain. He cried out again and she stretched her sore body out before moving over to him and crouching beside him. His whole face was contorted in agony and she ran a hand over his face before grabbing his hand as he lashed out at nothing.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently in hers – wary not to aggravate the still-healing burns but hoping it might comfort him in some small way.

His nightmare continued for at least another ten minutes before he finally fell into a quieter sleep, punctuated only occasionally but a soft moan. She dared not move in case she woke him and so propped herself against the wall beside him, her hand still holding his tightly. She tried helplessly to stay awake, fighting constantly against her eyelids, but finally they fluttered shut and she slept again.

Soothing


A/N: Well, the heat is on in the real world, so I apologise in advance for updates getting a bit dotty. I'm going to try and post as much as I can as often as I can.

Also, thanks for all the lovely reviews. I do read and appreciate them all, even if I don't get round to replying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke and let out a moan at the pains shooting through her neck and back. Sleeping on a cold floor, propped against an even colder wall was definitely not a good idea. She opened her eyes lazily and her gaze fell to the sleeping vampire beside her, her hand reaching out and running gently over his tangled hair. He was sleeping peacefully still, his mouth moving silently, curled up into a ball. She noticed then that his hand was still clasping hers and she smiled gently, withdrawing it with a little squeeze.

Much as she hated to leave him, she had a few tasks to do and she hoped to get them done and return before he woke up. A look at the curtained window told her that it was almost night and she was glad there could be no repeat of this morning’s stunt. She got to her feet carefully, trying her best not to disturb the vampire and crept out of the dark room.

Just as she was shutting the door behind her, a figure appeared from the shadows, making her jump.

“Geez, Angel! You really need to get a bell.”

He gave her a sad half smile and she returned her own wry one as she smoothed down her hair and clothes, rolling her neck to try and work out the ache.

“Please tell me this place has a bathroom,” she murmured, raising her eyes to the silent vampire.

“It’s just along the hall there.”

“Great. I’m just going to freshen up but then I really need to talk to you. Meet you downstairs?”

“Sure,” he answered softly, turning and making his way along the corridor. She could see by his bowed head that something was bothering him but decided to leave finding out what it was until after she’d had a wash.



She cleaned her face and neck with an old cloth she found in the bathroom and, not feeling much more refreshed, made her way downstairs. She found Angel in the large front room once more, sitting in the dark, lost in thought. He looked up when she came in though and smiled sadly. She moved a chair and sat beside him, somehow needing the reassurance of his closeness. She took his hand, wrapping her fingers around his as she gave him a shy smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “You still look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep too well,” she explained, “Spike kept having nightmares.”

He nodded and looked away.

“That’s something that never really stops,” he murmured and she squeezed his hand.

She had almost forgotten about him, about what he might be suffering with his soul restored – too caught up in Spike’s more obvious torment.

“What about suicide attempts?” she quipped and his eyes flew to hers in shock.

“He…”

“Tried to get himself a suntan earlier,” she murmured, making light of it even though the memory made her shudder. Angel frowned and looked to the floor, his grip tightening on her hand ever so slightly. She squeezed his hand back and couldn’t help noticing how different his hand felt from Spike’s – colder, somehow, and so much larger, bulkier.

Shaking that thought away, she sighed, running a hand through her dirty hair.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered helplessly.

Angel turned to her and reached out to pull her into his embrace, folding his arms around her.

“I don’t know how to make things better.”



He was silent for a long moment, holding her close, his hand running over her arm.

“It takes time, Buffy,” he murmured eventually, his hand tracing over her hair, “He’ll get better. But it won’t happen overnight.”

“I know. It’s just… he’s in so much pain…”

They sat in silence for a moment and she buried her head against him, seeking comfort in his embrace. She remembered then her other tasks and she spoke up quietly.

“I don’t suppose you have any bandages or anything I can put on his hands? They’re badly burnt.”

“I’ll find something.”

She nodded and let herself relax against him, closing her eyes and relishing the feel of his strong arms around her.

“Buffy, I…” he trailed off and she frowned, sensing that whatever he was about to say had something to do with his mood.

“What is it?” she asked softly, sitting up and meeting his eyes, “Are you okay?”

“I- I’m fine. But I…” he trailed off, looked around the room and then turned his attention back to her, “I don’t think I can stay here.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll still help you, with Spike… but I… there’s too much bad history here. I need to get away from it.”

“I- I understand,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his face, “I really do.”

He gave her a wry smile and pressed her hand to his cheek.

“Where will you go?”

“I’ll find somewhere.”

“But you’ll stay close?”

“Of course,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation.



After Angel had ripped up some bed linen to serve as makeshift bandages, they headed to Spike’s room together.

“Angel, why do you think he doesn’t like being called Spike?” she asked curiously, turning to the vampire at her side as they ascended the stairs. He was silent for a moment and then fixed those dark eyes on her.

“I guess the name Spike doesn’t exactly have good memories for him. He got that name from killing and maiming…”

“So William’s, like, safe?”

“I guess so. Definitely less painful than Spike.”

She was silent, pensive, as they finished climbing the steps and finally blurted out the question these thoughts brought forth.

“You never asked to be called by your human name,” she whispered and Angel came to a halt, a brief flash of pain crossing his face before he began to move again.

“There aren’t any good memories there for me.”

“But with Spike-“

“Spike and I are very different people,” he interrupted, “Different vampires and even more different humans.”

She frowned in confusion – after all, she didn’t really know much about either of their lives.

“William was a gentleman,” he murmured, with something like envy.

Before she could question him though, they had reached Spike’s room and she got the feeling he wasn’t going to share anymore.

“Maybe you should stay by the door,” she suggested, “In case he reacts badly to you again.”

Angel nodded and she opened the door, surprised to find Spike awake and halfway alert.



With a glance at Angel, she made her way over to the other vampire and warily lowered herself to the floor beside him. He was unusually silent and was staring in front of him unnervingly.

“Sp- William,” she whispered, catching herself just in time, “I need to fix your hands.”

He made no sign that he understood or was even listening but when she reached for his hand, he jerked away.

“I just want to make them feel better,” she murmured softly, reaching for his hand again.
She caught his wrist in a firm grip before he could pull away again.

“I won’t hurt you,” she whispered soothingly, brushing her free hand over his hair. He slanted a look at her, eyes confused and pained, but she felt him relax ever so slightly.

Encouraged, she took one of the makeshift bandages and began to wrap his hand. She knew all he really needed was the vampire healing to set in but if he wasn’t feeding, it was going to take longer and although the bandages didn’t really help, they might stop the burns from getting any worse.

If she had looked up at Angel, she would have seen his eyes burn yellow, his expression tainted with anger and jealousy – but she was so caught up in her task that she didn’t even notice when he left the doorway and disappeared into the darkness. She simply carried on, wrapping Spike’s damaged hands and soothing him with a gentle, wordless murmuring.

Jealousy


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things continued unchanged for several days: she tended to the broken vampire as best she could, hoping one day he would snap out his crazed state. He hadn’t improved much though- sure, there were no more suicide attempts, but he didn’t seem any more lucid than before. Occasionally he would look at her like he recognised her, but it was usually so fleeting a moment that she often thought maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. She slept little, waking in the night either from her own nightmares or his. He was getting thinner too with the lack of blood and try as she might, he refused to feed and it was getting her more and more worried.

Added to all that, Angel had been acting strangely around her over the last few days. He had moved out to an apartment two days ago but would reappear every evening as soon as the sun set and check on her. Because that was what he was doing, she realised – checking on her, not on his grandchilde. In fact, despite his promises, he had hardly been near Spike in days now and rarely made any suggestion as to how she could help the other vampire.

It was weighing heavily on her, this burden, and she was almost tempted to enlist help. Except the Scoobies were still not quite understanding of the whole helping-a-vampire thing. They had, however, discovered the slight glitch in the spell that had cursed Spike along with Angel.


“So, basically, you said the wrong word?” Buffy had said to Willow, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“It was a very complicated spell,” Giles explained, “And it had been cross-translated several times since the original. When we translated it into Latin for our uses, it seems the word ‘vampire’ was transcribed as ‘male vampires’, in the masculine plural instead of the singular.”

She had struggled to decode Giles’ explanation but finally thought she understood.

“So that’s why Drusilla wasn’t affected? It was only male vampires in the vicinity.”

“Quite.”

“Great. Well, err, that… doesn’t really help at all.”

She sighed and with a bitter laugh, pushed herself to her feet.

“I should get back. I don’t like leaving him alone for long.”

“Buffy,” Giles started softly, “Don’t you think you’re taking too much upon yourself? It’s not your duty to look after him, you know.”

“I know, but I… I have to do it, Giles.”

He went to speak again but she cut him off.

“Thanks for getting me some clothes,” she said, smiling at the plain but functional clothes her Watcher had bought her.



Even though she had convinced Giles that she felt bound to help the vampire, it was an exhausting task, emotionally more than anything. She couldn’t even count how many times she had burst into tears over the last week, overcome by tiredness, by pity, by sadness. Despite his strange behaviour – which she attributed to guilt – she was glad of Angel’s visits as it was the only time in the day that she could talk to a sane, lucid person. She hadn’t realised just how much it could affect her, not having contact with anyone but the crazed vampire.

That night, Angel brought blood with him and when she raised an eyebrow in question, he explained that much longer without blood and Spike would be in serious trouble. They went up to the room together and she couldn’t help reeling at the awful smell it emitted: a result of a week of unwashed Spike and already dirty bed linen. She would have to do something about both of those problems at some point. With Angel carrying the blood behind her, she approached Spike carefully, still wary despite the fact that any violence left in him had disappeared with his waning strength.

“You need to eat, William,” she whispered, resting her hand on his shoulder as she knelt beside him.

He still tensed with her touch but over the last few days they had developed a tentative bond and she liked to think he trusted her.



As soon as Angel got close though, he lashed out, going into game face and crying out.

“Sp- William!” she got out, struggling to hold him still, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“No, don’t make me. He’ll make me… so wrong and bad… bad bad William… can’t be a proper vampire…”

When she looked up at Angel, his face was twisted with pain and guilt and she didn’t even want to think about what memory Spike’s words had provoked.

“William, it’s okay,” she whispered again, stroking her hand over his hair gently.

“Can’t do it. No!”

“It’s okay. Shhh.”

She reached out and took the bag of blood from Angel and pleaded him silently to retreat. He moved back to the door, watching them both with a frown. She turned back to Spike and stroked her hand over his messy hair again.

“Please feed, William. Please.”

She held out the bag in front of him and much to her surprise, he vamped out instantly, snatching the bag from her hand and tearing into it in a frenzy. She couldn’t imagine how hungry he had been this last week to attack the bag so desperately, draining its contents in a few short seconds. She took the mangled container from him gently and squeezed his shoulder softly.

“Isn’t that better?”

She threaded her fingers in his hair, working absentmindedly at the knots, and was surprised when he let out what almost sounded like a purr. She smiled and removed her hand.

“Now I just need to get you clean,” she murmured half to herself.

“Dirty dirty… need to get clean… need to get the bad out.”

“Something like that,” she replied absentmindedly, getting to her feet and smiling to herself. There was definitely something wrong if she was having conversations with a madman.



She shut the door behind the vampire quietly and gave Angel a wry smile as she twisted the container in her hand.

“Well, I think he was hungry.”

Angel was silent, dark eyes focussing on the wall behind her. She took a step towards him and reached out to touch his arm.

“Angel?” she asked with a frown.

“You don’t have to keep touching him, you know!” he blurted out, and she was astounded to see his eyes flash yellow as he turned to her.

“What?” she whispered in astonishment.

“You’re always touching him. You’re getting too close, Buffy.”

She was absolutely stunned. He was actually giving her the jealous crap because she wanted to make Spike feel a tiny bit better! Because she stroked his hair and tried to comfort him! She turned back to Angel and her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms.

“I can’t believe you!” she exclaimed, “You know what he’s going through. Don’t you think any comfort he can get is a good thing?!”

“Is that all you’re giving him, Buffy?!” he retorted and seemed to regret it instantly.

She was too angry to care though and she clenched her jaw.

“Unless you think he’s going to get a moment of perfect happiness from having his hand held, this conversation is over.”

Angel regarded her in shock for a long moment, before turning on his heel and striding away down the corridor, not looking back once. She almost wanted to laugh at the insanity of it. She brushed a hand over her hair and with a little shake of her head, went along to the bathroom.



She returned to Spike a few minutes later with a bowl of water and some cloths. He hadn’t moved from his usual spot in the furthest corner and she went over to him with a smile.

“Looks like it’s just us again,” she said to the vampire, not expecting any reply as she placed the bowl down on a side table, “Oh no, maybe we’ll get up to something naughty and make Angel even more jealous.”

She sighed, smiling bitterly at the same time. She wet one of the cloths and turned back to Spike, kneeling beside him as she reached out and gently pressed the wet cloth against his neck.

“I’m just going to get you cleaned up. No offence, but you smell.”

He said nothing in reply and was unusually quiet as she cleaned his face and neck, stroking the cloth over him gently.

“Guess I should really clean your arms and stuff,” she murmured to herself, looking down at the vampire’s dirty clothes – the same ones he had been wearing all week - with a frown, “And get you some new clothes.”

He said nothing but she was glad when he did not resist as she gently peeled off his red button-down and threw it in the far corner. She turned back to him then and regarded his black T-shirt, before giving a sigh.

“Okay, Buffy, you want to play nursemaid, get over it,” she whispered to herself, grabbing the sides of his T-shirt and pulling it over his head before he could protest or try to stop her.



Her embarrassment at him being half-naked was soon forgotten as she caught sight of his chest and she gasped, hand coming to her mouth in horror at the deep cuts over his chest.

“What have you done?!” she whispered in horror.

“Tried to cut it out. It hurts,” he murmured, hands twisting in his hair as he bowed his head, “Cut it out… take it away.”

Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, fighting her tears, she turned to him and tried to ignore the fact that he had hurt himself so badly as she went about cleaning him, sweeping the cloth over his torso as quickly as she could.

“Yeah, this is real sexy,” she murmured tearfully, “No wonder he’s jealous.”

She cleaned him up as best she could and then her eyes fell to his jeans and she grimaced.

Finally, she took a deep breath and embarrassedly went to work on his zip.

“All in the name of hygiene,” she muttered, eyes averted embarrassedly from her task. As soon as she discovered he wasn’t wearing anything underneath though, she snatched her hands back and shook her head slightly.

“Uh-huh, no way. Hygiene be damned,” she exclaimed, throwing the dirty cloth in the bowl and sitting back on her heels to examine her work. Well, he looked a bit better at least. She stood and began rifling through the drawers of the room, finding numerous dresses – Drusilla’s no doubt – but finally finding a drawer of shirts and tops, all predictably black and red, with few exceptions. She grabbed a dark grey shirt and returned to the vampire.

“New clothes and everything,” she said with a smile, crouching in front of him and coaxing him into the shirt.

“There, all better,” she declared with a nod, passing a hand over his hair.

She smiled sadly and gathered up the things, brushing a hand over her tired eyes.

“I’ll be back,” she said quietly and turned to the door, bowl in hand.



“Why are you helping me, Slayer?”

She jumped at his quiet voice, almost spilling the bowl of water, and turned around quickly. Spike was looking up at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers for longer than they had been in days.

“Sp- Spike?”

“Why are you helping me?” he repeated weakly.

She turned her back on him as she tried to come to terms with a suddenly lucid Spike. It must have been the blood, she mused, making him stronger and a little more lucid. At least she hadn’t known that when she had been stripping him.

“I have to,” she whispered, turning back to him and meeting his gaze for a moment before turning back to the door, “You… you should rest.”

She opened the door but his weak voice halted her again.

“Thank you.”

She could feel the tears welling up and could only nod in reply, quickly leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. She sank to the floor, wiping at her eyes and choking on her tears.

“Buffy?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes went wide when she saw the figure lingering just down the hall, watching her with concern.

“Mom?!”

Reconciliation


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mom?!” she repeated, scrambling to her feet, her expression one of surprise and wary delight.

“You look tired, honey,” her mother commented softly, taking a step towards her.

The tears that had barely stopped threatened to return again and she bit her lip. Just then, Spike let out a hoarse cry and she saw her mother start, worried eyes going to the door beside her.

“Is that Spike?” her mother asked quietly, eyes darting between the door and Buffy.

“Yeah,” she answered, wondering how her mother seemed to know what was going on. Joyce shook of her daze then and turned to her with a soft smile.

“Why don’t you come downstairs? I’ve brought some food. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

She glanced at the door, heard Spike let out another cry and then turned back to her mother and nodded hesitantly.

“That would be good.”

She followed her mother down the stairs, both awkwardly silent, and found a selection of takeaway on the living room table. Her stomach instantly rumbled at the sight of food – after all, she had been living on scraps for the last few days – and at her mother’s nod, she dropped into a chair and dived into the first container, her hunger replacing any thought of propriety. She wolfed down as much as her stomach could handle as her mother sat watching her silently and then turned to her with a sheepish look.

“Who told you I was here?”

“Mr. Giles.”

She nodded and then raised her eyes as her mother spoke up.




“Buffy, I’m so sorry.”

Stunned, she sat in uncomfortable silence, fiddling with her hands under the table.

“I never meant… What I said, before you left, I didn’t mean it. You’re my daughter and I love you. I was just so… so scared and confused.”

“You don’t think I was scared and confused?!” she retorted helplessly, “I was coming to kill my boyfriend, Mom! Or did Giles leave that bit out?”

“He told me all about Angel. And the… the spell. He’s good again now, right?”

“Yes, he’s good.”

Her mother was silent for a moment, seemingly absorbing that information, and then she spoke up again.

“And you and Spike aren’t in a band.”

“No.”

“He’s a… vampire too.”

Her mother spoke the word as if it was something foreign and unfamiliar, frowning slightly.

“Yes.”

“And he’s good too?”

“He’s got a soul now,” Buffy explained, “It’s like a conscience so it means he can’t do evil things without feeling bad about it.”

“He sounded like he was in pain,” Joyce murmured, eyes going to the ceiling.

“Well, he’s already got a lot of bad things to feel sorry about.”

Her mother was watching her intently now, studying her, and she averted her gaze, feeling uncomfortable.



“Are you safe here?” her mother asked, “He won’t-“

“Spike won’t hurt me, Mom,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the table, “He’s too busy hurting himself.”

She sighed and twisted her hands together awkwardly.

“I can defend myself against Spike if I have to anyway,” she explained, “This weak, he’s not a threat.”

“But he was before?”

She sighed and raised her head, giving her mother a crooked smile.

“You remember Parent Teacher Night? When those… gangs attacked the school? A man was trying to hurt me and you hit him over the head with an axe?”

“Yes! Was that a… vampire?”

“It was Spike,” she remarked with a half smile, “He was going to kill me and you saved me.”

She could see her mother was stunned by this and she sat back, fiddling with her hands as she tried to work out what had brought her mother here.

“Your life is so dangerous,” Joyce whispered, drawing her attention back to her.

“Well, yeah. But it’s not like I have a choice.”

“You can’t just decide not to be the Slayer?” her mother asked hopefully.

“No. I’ll be the Slayer until I die.”



They fell into another uncomfortable silence and with a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet.

“I really should check on Spike. I don’t like leaving him alone. He… he hurts himself.”

Her mother looked up at her than and she thought she saw something like pride in her mother’s gaze. Joyce stood beside her and reached out to run a hand over her hand.

“You’re such a loving, strong girl.”

She gave a twisted smile and went to move away.

“Let me come with you,” Joyce spoke up and she paused, turning back to her in surprise, “I only just got here and there’s still lots we need to talk about. But if you have to check on Spike…”

“Mom, I don’t know. I mean-“

“You said he won’t hurt anyone.”

“Well, no.”

“Good. Let’s go then. Will he want some food?”
Joyce asked, turning to the leftovers.

“No. He doesn’t eat human food.”

“Oh,” her mother intoned, pasting on a smile and following her up the stairs. As they reached the door, she paused and turned to her mother.

“It’s not… nice. He’s… he’s kinda crazy.”

Her mother nodded, a look of calm on her face.

“Just… stay by the door, okay? I don’t want to take any chances.”



She went in and moved over to the corner where Spike was huddled, head resting on his knees, hands in his hair. It seemed he was back to his usual state again after that brief period of lucidity.

“William?” she whispered as she got close.

“Voices… the voices keep coming… can’t get no rest… it hurts all the time.”

“I know,” she soothed, lowering herself beside him and brushing a hand over his bowed head as she threw her mother a worried look. Joyce remained by the door, as promised, watching on with an expression of curiosity, pity and surprise.

“Hey, Sp- William. You remember my mom, right? We told her we were in a band, remember?”

“Blood spilled… all over the floor. Can’t get it off… not supposed to come off. Mother will scold us… mustn’t… not allowed…”

“She-she hit you with an axe that one time as well, remember?” she whispered helplessly, stroking his hair gently, “Bet you were really pissed about that, huh? You almost had me.”


When she thought back to the scarily calm smirk of William the Bloody as he came after her, eyes fixed on her with a predatory coldness, she could hardly reconcile that image with the vampire beside her now. He had once been a force to be feared, a Slayer of Slayers. And now he was reduced to this: helpless, crazed, tortured. With only a Slayer to help him. She knew she should feel relieved, like Giles had, that the Slayer of Slayers was no longer a threat but something in her protested at the thought of it. Spike was a fighter, like she was. Without the fight and all the passion of the hunt, what would he be like? She couldn’t help but think, a lesser man.

She would almost rather have been fighting with him again than seeing him like this. Somehow, even with the wheelchair, he had been not quite safe, someone still to be treated with caution – but now… She was cut off as her mother spoke up, drawing her attention.

“Buffy, darling?”

She raised her head, only noticing now the tears tracing down her cheeks. She wiped them impatiently and pushed herself to her feet, careful not to startle Spike.



As soon as she reached the door, her mother wrapped her arms around her and she sank against her, crying. Her mother guided her away from the room and the next thing she knew, they were sitting on a bed in what must have been a neighbouring room and her mother was stroking her hair softly. She wiped her eyes again and raised her head, squaring her shoulders even as her mother passed a gentle hand over her hair.

“You’re exhausted,” she commented with a compassionate expression, “You need to sleep.”

She went to protest but her mother stopped her by holding up a hand.

“I know you want to help Spike, but what use are you if you’re exhausted? You can’t be with him every minute of every day, Buffy. You have to go on some trust.”

She was silent, taking in her mother’s words, knowing that she was right – if she exhausted herself, she would be no good to Spike.

“You’re right,” she whispered, “I just… I’m scared that he’ll hurt himself if I’m not there.”

“I’m sure he’ll be perfectly fine for a few hours while you sleep. He seemed quite calm just now.”

She looked up at her mother, wavering indecisively.

“Come on,” Joyce encouraged, “Lay down and get some rest. I’ll keep an eye on Spike.”

“You- Mom, no.”

“I’ll just listen out, make sure he’s calm… if I hear anything I don’t like, I’ll wake you.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do this.”

“My little girl is wasting away taking this burden on her… I’ll do anything to help her.”

The tears were coming again but she pushed them away, giving her mother a grateful smile before enveloping her in a tight hug.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey.”

Her mother was already guiding her backwards onto the bed, pulling the covers around and tucking her in as if she were a small girl still.

“Get some sleep and we’ll talk later.”

She nodded sleepily and within minutes she was fast asleep, enjoying the first deep sleep in a week.

Family


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t her mother that woke her in the end, but the sound of a scream and scrambling next door. In a second, she was on her feet, racing out of the room and throwing the door open to Spike’s. Her mother reached the room only seconds later, but Buffy was too engrossed in the scene before her to acknowledge her.

“Angel, what the hell is going on?!”

Angel was pushing himself to his feet at one end of the room, wiping blood from his lip as Spike huddled in the corner, keening lowly.

“No, no. I won’t do it, you can’t make me. I won’t.”

“I was just trying to help,” he explained.

“How exactly were you planning on doing that?” she asked pointedly and he dipped his head.

“I was just trying to talk to him… then he lashed out at me.”

“No, no. Not the girl, no. I won’t do it. Can’t… can’t hurt… no!”

Spike was clutching his head almost painfully now, keening and blurting out his painful monologue.

Suddenly his head whipped up, eyes yellow and fangs elongating as he hissed at Angel across the room.

“You can hurt me as much as you like but I won’t do it,” he growled and jumped to his feet, launching himself at the other vampire wildly.

She heard her mother gasp as she leapt forward and intercepted Spike, struggling with him and finally sending him flying into the corner. And almost instantly, he curled up again in a protective ball.

“No, no didn’t mean it. Please… please don’t hurt me.”

Her tortured gaze went from him to Angel and then she turned her back on the older vampire.

“Just get out before you make him worse,” she commented, hearing him disappear behind her.



She took a deep breath and approached Spike warily, more than aware of her mother’s eyes on her.

“William,” she whispered, stopping just short of him, “It’s okay. No-one’s going to hurt you. Not Angel and… and not me. You’re safe here.”

“Never safe. Not safe. Safe as houses. Houses aren’t safe either… sneak in… get an invitation and you’re in.”

He lowered his voice to a mumbling she could hardly hear and she closed her eyes, fighting her emotions once more.

“Buffy,” her mother called out softly and she turned pained eyes on her, “Maybe he should get some proper sleep.”

Her mother’s gaze moved to the large bed and she nodded, turning back to the vampire. She knelt beside him and wrapped a cautious hand around his wrist.

“William, I just want you to move, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Blue eyes rose to hers, holding hers for a short moment before he started his mumbling again, just under his breath.

Taking that as encouragement, she wrapped her free arm around him and lifted him to his feet, made easier by the weight he had lost so quickly without blood. She shuffled the few steps to the bed and sat him down. Luckily, her job was then over as he instantly lay down and curled up, head buried in the pillow. She moved towards her mother and together they left the room.



She couldn’t help thinking Angel was somewhat fortunate her mother was with her when they found him downstairs because otherwise she wasn’t sure she would have contained her temper. Which scared her in a way: she had never been so angry at Angel before.

“How is he?” Angel asked as soon as they entered the room.

She went to reply but her mother beat her to it, sending her a look she couldn’t quite understand.

“He’s sleeping now, Angel.”

The vampire looked almost as surprised as she did and she almost laughed when her mother stepped forward.

“It’s nice to meet you properly, Angel,” she commented, “I must say, I was starting to wonder why Buffy wasn’t doing any better in school.”

Angel didn’t seem to know what to say to that and Joyce smiled brightly, moving to sit on a chair, watching the two of them. Angel’s eyes moved to hers but she averted her gaze, unable to bear those sad eyes just now.

“It seems to me that it’s probably best for Spike’s mental health if you stay away, Angel,” Joyce spoke up again, surprising them once more.

“I was only trying to help,” he explained, sounding like a small boy making an excuse.

“I’m sure. But he only seems calm around Buffy so perhaps you should leave it to her.”

She didn’t miss the half-angry look Angel sent her way and she quickly moved towards her mother.



“I just don’t know what can have made him so angry,” she remarked softly and Angel winced, turning to look out of the dark window.

“Sometimes even smell can set you off,” Angel murmured lowly, “If it’s one you recognise and don’t like.”

“Really?” Joyce piped up, voice full of curiosity, “Interesting. But why wouldn’t Spike like the smell of you?”

Angel winced again and Buffy almost felt sorry for him as he glanced at her and her mother.

“We’ve got a long history… and not much of it is good. Especially more recently.”

Well, that was certainly true – Spike had been so angry with his grandsire that he had been prepared to plot against him with the help of the Slayer. She was drawn out of her thoughts as her mother spoke again, turning to her.

“And has he been like that all week?” she asked quietly, “I mean… talking to himself.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much a constant,” she answered with a twisted smile, “Doesn’t make for great conversation.”

Her mother gave her a soft smile and reached out to brush a hand over her hair.

“That’s why I want you to come home.”

“Mom, I-“

“I mean it, Buffy. I can’t let you stay here. You’re so busy worrying about Spike you’re hardly looking after yourself. I’m surprised Angel hasn’t remarked on the difference in you,” her mother commented, slanting a look at the bemused vampire.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Buffy. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally.”

“Well, it is kinda hard…” she murmured half to herself, “But Mom, I can’t leave him.”

“You don’t have to. He can stay with us.”



Her eyes widened with shock as she stared at her mother and when she glanced at Angel, he was doing the same thing. Her mother looked between the two of them and gave them a slight smile.

“Surely a change of scenery would be better. For everyone.”

It sounded like a great idea – except she wasn’t sure Spike would take to the idea.

“Mrs. Summers, I really don’t think Spike-“

“Considering your effect on Spike, Angel, I don’t think you can have any say in this.”

Buffy didn’t know whether to be astounded or amused by her mother’s cold tone. This was the longest she had ever spent with Angel and she really wasn’t turning into his biggest fan.

“He’s family,” Angel ground out.

“That may be. But Buffy’s my family and as I want her home and she won’t leave Spike, it seems the only solution.”

“Mom, I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she said, taking pity on Angel and deflecting her mother’s attention from him, “He’s starting to get better here. He even recognised who I was earlier. If we move him, it might start all over again.”

“I understand that, Buffy, but I want you home. Safe.”

She wasn’t sure what the solution to this dilemma was and she bit her lip, trying to consider the possibilities.

“Give me a week,” she suggested to her mother, “We’ll see what he’s like at the end of it.”

“But Buffy-“

“And I’ll come home every day when he’s sleeping and let you know I’m okay.”

Her mother didn’t seem quite convinced but finally, she gave in and with a sigh nodded.

“I’ll bring you some things in the morning,” she said, brushing a hand over Buffy’s hair again.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She leant over and hugged her mother tightly.



“Right, now that’s settled, I really should get home,” Joyce exclaimed, rising to her feet.

“Did you come in the car?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Buffy sighed in relief, “Just… be careful, Mom.”

“That’s my line,” Joyce quipped and she smiled.

Joyce drew her into another hug, holding her close.

“I love you, Buffy. Never forget that,” she whispered and Buffy hugged her back tighter, breathing in the sweet scent of lavender. She pulled back again and tucked a strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“I promise, Mom.”

Her mother nodded and then turned to Angel.

“It was nice to see you again, Angel.”

He nodded awkwardly and then with another glance at her, her mother disappeared, leaving them in tense silence.

It was at least a full minute before either of them spoke, but finally Angel broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Buffy.”

Her head snapped up and she frowned in confusion.

“About what I said… about you and Spike. I know you’re just helping but I-“

“It’s okay,” she whispered, softening, “I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

“It’s fine. I really did make him worse.”

They were silent for another long pause until she called out to him.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Come hold me already,” she murmured and in an instant, he was in front of her, wrapping her in his arms.



She didn’t know what was happening in her heart anymore – one minute, she was still as in love with Angel as ever, but then a moment later, something would make her almost want to hate him. She pushed the thoughts away and hugged him tightly, burying her head against him.

“Stay here with me tonight,” she whispered.

“Buffy-“

“I’m not asking you for anything. I just don’t want to be alone… or, you know, alone with the crazy vampire.”

He said nothing but held her tighter, his chin resting on her head.

“I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you.”

She raised her head and met his lips for a soft kiss that ended too soon, both of them too afraid to continue. They went upstairs together and lay down on the bed in the room next to Spike’s, curled up in each other’s arms. Content… for now.

Progress


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike’s condition remained much the same over the next few days, interspersed with brief periods of lucidity that surprised her every time. One such period came as she was washing his face and hands, determined to keep him a bit cleaner than she had for the first few days. She held her hand in his gently, wiping the cloth up and down in bare arms.

“Dru’s gone, isn’t she?” he spoke up softly, and she jumped – as she always seemed to do when he surprised her with something like normal sentences.

She looked up at him but his eyes were on the floor and he refused to meet her gaze – not an uncommon tendency of late.

“Yeah,” she finally answered, continuing her ministrations, “She’s gone. I haven’t seen her since… not in about a week and a half.”

He nodded, his movements slow. When she reached out for his other hand, he let her take it, lost in thought.

“Could feel it. Feel that she wasn’t around.”

He fell silent and she continued her task, her heart bursting with sympathy for him.

“Bet I make her look sane at times,” he commented lowly and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sometimes,” she admitted and he raised his head, giving her a tiny smile. It was so good to see him like this, eyes bright and taking everything in - with her in the moment for once.

Giving into an impulse, she leant forward and hugged him swiftly, before pulling back and returning to her position. When she glanced at him, he was frowning in confusion.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just really glad when you’re… you.”

He gave her another half-smile and then he dipped his head, gaze averting hers almost sheepishly. Well, she guessed he wasn’t completely himself after all.



Despite the moments of lucidity though, he was still constantly plagued by memories and bouts of conscience that often had him crying out in his sleep. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept through the night without being woken at any point. Sometimes his nightmares were so bad that she would go to him, desperately trying to soothe him, talking to him, holding his hand as he lashed out in his sleep, crying out and often simply crying. And the more she saw him suffer, the more she began to realise just what Angel had been through – began to understand him a little better.

And the more she began to doubt the rightness of the gypsy curse. She could understand why they would want revenge, but it seemed so unnecessarily cruel. Why not just kill the vampire and get him out of the way? This endless suffering just seemed unjustifiably brutal, to her at least. And she didn’t exactly draw comfort from the fact that it had taken Angel years to come to terms with his soul, to become the man he was today. She hoped Spike, with her help, would be back to something like his old self in a lot shorter time than that.

Suffering like this was something she never would have wished upon him, even during the days of their most intense enmity. So, she was determined to do everything she could do to make things easier for her, for as long as it took.



He was feeding regularly now, which was a good thing. He had lost a drastic amount of weight in a short space of time, as had become clear when she was washing him, and his eyes had become sunken, his skin even paler than usual. Needless to say, she was glad to see him looking a lot healthier, even if she could still clearly see the outlines of his ribs.

The blood helped his mental state as well, she noticed: more often than not, his moments of lucidity would come shortly after feeding. He began to move around more as well, instead of continually huddling in the corner – although that still happened when he was particularly agitated and when he knew Angel was in the house. Angel stayed away from his room but somehow, Spike still knew he was around and it would send him straight to the corner and straight into a bout of crazed, painful monologues.

She still didn’t really know what to do about that – she had hoped at first that Angel might have been able to help the younger vampire cope with his soul, but it seemed that was out of the question now. She was just glad Angel seemed to be acting a bit more normally now because dealing with two emotionally-strung vampires would have driven her crazy, she was sure. As it was, seeing Angel and visiting her mother were the only times when she felt normal, when she could enjoy a normal conversation that didn’t end in screaming or crying or incoherent babbling.

Despite the difficulties though, she couldn’t help feeling some affection for the vampire she was nursing – it was only natural, she supposed, with them being so close so often. Whenever he made any sign of progress, she was overjoyed and would be smiling for the next hour at least.



Another good bit of progress was that he was no longer sleeping on the floor like some sort of animal. After the night of her mother’s visit, he seemed to have grown quite comfortable spending most of the day in the large bed. He still didn’t leave the room, but progress was progress and she was glad to see it.

On the fifth evening after her mother’s visit, she went into the room just after sun set – he slept most of the day away – carrying his blood and smiling to herself. As soon as she entered though, her smile disappeared as she took him in. He was curled up under the covers, fast asleep but sobbing silently, tears tracing down his cheeks. This wasn’t the first night she had found him in such a state and she moved silently towards the bed, perching on the edge and watching him, her expression softening into sympathy.

At least she had been able to get her own emotions under control lately, meaning she didn’t burst into tears every time he was in pain. She reached out and ran her hand gently over his hair, knowing well that this was the best way to soothe him when he was like this. She murmured wordlessly, her fingers stroking through his hair as she tried to take away some of his pain. He shifted in his sleep, one arm wrapping around her lightly and his head resting just next to her thigh. She smiled sadly and continued her soft caress over his hair. It was getting long quickly, with almost an inch of dark roots already showing.



“Please,” he whispered in his sleep, pleading, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. No, please.”

“Shh,” she murmured, running her hand through his hair again, frowning slightly.

“Didn’t want to… hurt you… wasn’t supposed to but I did… please.”

“It’s okay, Spike. Shhh.”

That was another achievement: he had stopped reacted badly to the name ‘Spike’. Calling him William had been strange for her, never having known him as such, and so she was more than happy to go back to ‘Spike’.

Suddenly, he jerked up out of his sleep, wide eyes looking around in a panic. For a moment he didn’t seem to recognise her and he backed away but after a few seconds he calmed and she reached out to take his hand.

“Dinner-time,” she said quietly, taking the bag of blood from the side table where she had placed it and holding it out to him. He took it and attacked it hungrily, turning slightly to one side, hiding from her as he fed. He finished in no time and handed it back to her and she got to her feet to dispose of it as he lay back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

“I had a horrible dream,” he murmured and she turned back to him, hardly surprised to find him alert. She said nothing but moved back to her perch beside him, watching him with worried eyes.

“I was stuck in a room with… with everyone I’d ever killed.”

He swallowed hard and she found herself reaching out to take his hand in hers. He jumped slightly at the touch and gave her hand a strange look, but then his hand tightened around hers.

“They wanted to hurt me. I didn’t want it… but I knew it was what I deserved.”

He was silent for a long pause and his eyes drifted to the window.

“My mother was there too,” he whispered, half to himself.



He turned back to her, pained blue eyes meeting hers.

“I tried to apologize but I knew it was no good.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she whispered, squeezing his hand ever so slightly in hers.

“Sometimes it helps,” he admitted, gaze slanted up at her with that shy look again.
They fell into a comfortable silence and she drew away, beginning to straighten up the room.

“Why are you still here, Slayer?”

She spun back to him in surprise.

“I’m sorry. Did you want to be alone?”

She was already halfway to the door when he spoke again, stopping her.

“I didn’t mean… Why are you still helping me?”

She turned back to him and met his bright gaze.

“Because I’m helping you until you get better. And you’re still not there yet.”

“Don’t know if I ever will be,” he murmured absentmindedly, eyes moving to his hands in his lap.

“You will be,” she remarked firmly, “I know it.”

He raised surprised eyes to hers and she smiled slightly.

“I know you, Spike. You’re strong. I know you can get through this.”

He was silent for a moment and then he gave her a sad smile.

“You’ve got more faith than me.”

“If Angel can get through it, so can you.”

She saw his expression darken momentarily but then he raised his chin.

“’Course I can.”

She was surprised by his sudden change of attitude but she had a feeling it was a sort of competitiveness with his grandsire. She decided to leave it though.

“I’m going to get some food. Do you want anything else?”

“I’m fine, Slayer.”

“Buffy,” she corrected with a slight smile.

“Buffy,” he repeated with a nod.

She smiled again and then left the room, knowing that his lucidity would not last much longer, and feeling surprisingly disappointed about it.

Eruption


I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. I just got back from a weekend away [hence possibly my longest ever update delay] and my inbox was swarmed with lovely reviews. Thank you all!

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Her week was almost up and she wasn’t really sure what the result was going to be as yet. She decided to take some time off that afternoon to visit her friends though, feeling like she hadn’t seen them in years. They were all gathered at Giles’ and she smiled as she went in: nothing seemed to have changed much. Injuries had healed and everyone was smiling – which compared with the situation just two weeks ago was a pleasant contrast.

They greeted her enthusiastically and she basked in the joy of having sane company.

“How are you, Buffy?” Giles asked softly, watching her with concern.

“I’m… I’m good. Things are starting to pick up.”

“And Spike?”

“Yeah, he seems to be getting better. He’s, you know, a bit less crazy now than he was before.”

She paused a moment before continuing.

“I think we might be moving him… to my mom’s.”

“Huh?!” Xander exclaimed, “When did this happen?”

“Well, my mom came round about a week ago…” – she sent a grateful smile in Giles’ direction – “And she wants me to come home. But I can’t leave Spike so she said he could come too.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Xander remarked, “I mean, he’s a vampire. Wouldn’t it be weird having him, like, walking around your house, making himself at home?”

“Somehow I don’t think Spike’s going to be acting like that anytime soon. When’s he’s not out of it completely, he’s pretty quiet.”

She shrugged and gave them a slanted smile.

“Guess it’s best for everyone. I definitely won’t miss the mansion.”



Willow, who had been silent so far, spoke up then.

“Speaking of… I mean… how’s Angel?”

“He’s… well, he’s Angel again. Mystery man, you know? Pops up now and again and then disappears again,” she explained with a smile and Willow giggled girlishly.

“You mean, he’s not staying at the mansion as well?” Giles asked in surprise.

“Na-uh.”

“I assumed he might stay and help you with Spike.”

“You’d think,” she mumbled under her breath, “No. That turned out to be a bad idea.”

“How so?”

“Spike kept getting worked up any time Angel was near him,” she told them, frowning slightly at the memory, “Lashing out at him and stuff.”

“I wonder why.”

She wondered too and had some pretty unpleasant theories about it that she didn’t dare run past Angel. Even if she sometimes forget, he was in some ways just as vulnerable as Spike right now.

“Bad history,” was all she told her friends with a shrug, “They never got on before anyway.”

“It’s quite common in vampire families,” Giles spoke up, “In my readings, I’ve often found instances when two males have fought. It’s rare that they both survive.”

She wasn’t the only one frowning at the thought and she shook it off uncomfortably. It relegated vampires to something too animal, in her view, and the vampires she knew definitely weren’t animals. They were more alive, more human than most people she knew.

“Well, I guess Spike got lucky when Angel got cursed first time round,” Xander commented.



She had never really thought about the previous relationship between the two vampires she knew best; had never imagined what things might have been like between them before Angel’s soul. Judging by the things Spike seemed to scream when Angel was around, she could guess that things weren’t exactly amicable.

“Buffy?”

She started out of her daze, giving her friends a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. What did you say?”

“Well, erm,” Willow started hesitantly, looking to the other two and then turning back to her, “We were wondering, erm… are you and Angel still, like… you know, together?”

She paused before answered, thoughts swirling around her mind.

“Right now, I don’t really know,” she admitted.

“I think it would be best you not pursue anything,” Giles suggested, “I know you… care for Angel but-“

“But Angelus was a bastard, I know. Kinda got that memo.”

“I just don’t want you to… to put yourself at risk.”

And others around you, was the silent addition to that sentence.

“Guys, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to let that happen again. Ever.”

“We weren’t saying that,” Willow said quietly, “We’re just, you know, worried.”

“I know. So am I. But things… well, things just aren’t the same after you’ve had a sword fight to the death, you know?” she quipped to cover just how much the subject upset her.



She left her friends not long after that, dawdling as she made her way back through town towards the mansion, enjoying the feel of the last rays of the evening sun on her face. She had been cooped up indoors far too much lately. She was lost in though, considering what she had talked about with her friends: her and Angel.

He had been to the mansion almost every day in the last week and even though there had been several kisses and she had shared a bed with him at least two nights, something felt off between them. There seemed to be an underlying tension that wouldn’t go away and she wasn’t sure it was entirely due to the fear that Angelus might return. There was something else there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. They had had no outright arguments since the last, but it almost felt like one was brewing.

It didn’t help that she was more than aware of the fact that Angel was not happy with just how much time she spent with Spike. He never said anything about it – perhaps not daring to after last time – but he would rarely ask her about Spike and if she commented about something offhand, she didn’t miss the vampire’s negative reaction to his grandchilde’s name. His name on her lips in particular. She wasn’t sure he was completely over the ridiculous jealousy he had displayed in the first few days.



She had almost reached the mansion now and looked up at the large, dark building. Somehow, coming back to it always caused a shudder to crawl over her and she was definitely glad that she would hopefully be leaving soon and returning to her own home. The house was silent as she went in and climbed the stairs somewhat wearily. She was headed for what had quickly become her room – next door to Spike – but as she approached his door, she heard muted voices. She edged closer and picked out a woman’s voice.

“The sun has taken you away, my Spike. Taken you away to play with it. But I shall bring you back.”

“Dru, please.”

She threw the door open, startling both vampires. Her eyes flew around the room, taking everything in and she stared, horrified, at the dead girl at Drusilla’s feet. Spike, meanwhile, was huddled against the wall, throwing looks of longing and disgust at the dead body.

“Slayer!” Drusilla hissed at her and she squared up defensively, wishing she had a stake on her.

“Drusilla, why don’t you just leave, okay? I really don’t want to have to kill you in front of Spike.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say as the vampiress flew at her, nails lashing out and catching her just under the eye. She cried out in pain and struggled as the vampiress tackled her to the ground, slipping into game face.

“I really do want to have to kill you in front of Spike,” she taunted with a cruel smile and grabbed hold of Buffy’s hair, pulling her head back and baring her neck.

She began to struggle even more, very aware of Drusilla’s intentions. The vampiress was too close and when her fangs scratched across her throat, breaking the skin, she knew she was in big trouble.



And then, in the next minute, she wasn’t. Drusilla was thrown from her and she rolled over in a half-daze, watching with wide eyes as Spike struggled with the vampiress. She backhanded him across the face and, as weak as he was, he dropped to the ground.

“The sunshine will take you and burn you up into little pieces!” Drusilla spit out and whirled round, disappearing out of the door before Buffy could even make an attempt to catch her.

She sat up dazedly, holding a hand to her bleeding neck. Spike’s eyes flew to hers and then slid to the dead girl behind her, pained and hungry.

“Spike,” she called out shakily, trying to distract his attention from the corpse, “Spike, please.”

He wouldn’t take his eyes off the girl and she carefully shifted until she was right in his eye line, forcing his gaze away from the dead girl. He growled lowly, shifting into game face and she tensed, ready to fight. But he just sat there, golden eyes watching her, flicking briefly to her neck and then back to her eyes again. She didn’t know what possessed her in that moment, but in the next, she was crawling towards Spike, kneeling just before him.

“Spike,” she whispered, removing her hand from her neck.

His eyes dropped to her neck and she saw his whole face twitch with the smell of Slayer’s blood. She reached out a trembling hand and placed it on his shoulder, eyes meeting his golden ones.

“Take some,” she whispered, surprising herself even as she did so.



Everything seemed to slow down but the next thing she knew, strong hands were dragging her close and his mouth was hovering over her neck. She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to relax and she just felt his tongue pass over her neck. She closed her eyes, taking long, deep breaths as his tongue passed over her gently. She kept waiting for the piercing pain of his fangs, but it never came. His touch was gentle, reverent even, and she barely felt any pain more than the slight ache of the cut itself.

Suddenly, a deep, dangerous growl sounded and her eyes flew open, her heart jolting as she took in the sight of an angry Angel at the door.

“Angel,” she gasped.

Spike jerked away from her and turned to face his grandsire, surprisingly confident-seeming. Angel stared at his grandchilde and then enraged golden eyes flew to hers.

“I knew it,” he growled around his fangs, sending a shiver down her spine.

She scrambled to her feet then, moving towards the older vampire.

“Angel, it’s not-“

Before she could even finish her sentence, he lashed out and backhanded her around the face, sending her flying against the wall. Cradling her face, she could only watch on in horror as he stalked over to Spike and dragged him to his feet, only to sling him into the far wall.

“You think you can touch her and get away with it?!” Angel growled, slowly approaching his grandchilde, who seemed to have lost what confidence he had before and was now huddled into a protective ball.

“Angel,” she called out helplessly.

“Shut up,” he spat out, turning hateful eyes on her and she couldn’t help but recoil in fear. She had never seen Angel look so dangerous. In a way, he was scarier than Angelus right now.



He suddenly seemed to notice the dead girl and he turned golden eyes on her again.

“Feeding him other girls as well?” he asked tautly.

“It’s not like that,” she got out, pushing herself to her feet, knowing she needed to diffuse this situation and quickly. He took another step towards Spike and she quickly spoke up.

“Angel, don’t. Please. This isn’t you, I know it isn’t.”

He was deathly still for a pause and when he turned to her, his eyes turned brown again.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he got out, his voice softer now as he took a step back. She didn’t really know what to say to that but she took a step towards him.

“I can explain everything,” she said softly, “You see-“

“Don’t,” he interrupted, eyes pained and cold at the same time, “Just save it, Buffy.”

“But I-“

“Leave it,” he snapped and with another look at his grandchilde and at the dead girl, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving them in deathly quiet.

She stood there in silence for long seconds until finally her brain caught up with what had happened and she sank to the floor, unable to stop the tears from coming.

Shock

A/N: Once again, huge thanks to all the reviewers. I'm just sorry I haven't got time to reply individually. But I'm glad you're enjoying and thanks for reading!

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Her heart was breaking as she cried her eyes out, burying her face helplessly in her hands, her whole body racked with sobs. The man she loved was… She couldn’t even finish the thought, sobbing harshly, bitterly – oblivious to her surroundings. But then, suddenly there was the softest pressure against her back and through her tears, she recognised Spike’s presence as his hand patted her back almost hesitantly. Unable to respond to him, too caught up in her emotions, she sagged slightly towards him, still crying harshly. His arm tightened around her slightly and then he spoke, his voice soft, low – and with no hint of insanity.

“Shhh, it’s okay.”

She raised teary eyes to his, only to find a fully alert Spike regarding her with concern and some anger. He raised a hand to her cheek and frowned.

“He hit you.”

She could only nod in reply, biting her lip to hold back another outburst of sobs.

“He was wrong,” he murmured, fingers stroking over her cheek.

He had never been this clear before and she realised that it was the blood – her blood, Slayer’s blood.

“He had to have smelled Dru,” he mumbled, almost to himself, “There’s no way he couldn’t have known she was here.”

This clarification hurt more than she liked to admit and she couldn’t stop another harsh sob breaking from her, bringing her to hide her face in her hand.

“He was just looking for a fight,” he continued, his hand moving gently over her bowed head, “But he’ll regret it like hell in the morning, I’ll tell you that much.”

She raised her watery gaze to his, sniffing helplessly.

“I’ve never seen him so…”

“I didn’t reckon so,” he said with a wry smile, brushing her hair back from her face, “Always was good at hiding his temper when he needed to.”

She wiped her eyes, still fighting the aching in her heart and the tears it prompted.



After a moment’s silence, Spike spoke up again.

“Are you okay, pet?”

She raised her head and nodded hesitantly.

“I’m just… shocked, I guess.”

He nodded and then turned towards the dead girl, his whole body tensing.

“We really should do something about her.”

Her gaze moved to the girl as well and she grimaced.

“What was Drusilla trying to do?” she whispered and Spike turned back to her, eyes turned sad.

“Helping, or so she thought.”

He shook his head, his gaze falling on the floor, and she reached out to touch his shoulder, drawing his eyes to hers.

“You don’t have to… I’ll – I’ll sort it out.”

“Slayer-“

“No, it’s okay.”

She rose shakily to her feet and approached the girl, trying not to look at the sightless eyes. She was a pretty, young brunette and Buffy couldn’t help wondering if she had a whole family worrying about her right now. She forced the thought away – she couldn’t think about that right now – and crouched down beside the girl, unsure how to continue.

She was about to pick the girl up under the arms when Spike appeared at her feet and she jumped in surprise.

“We’ll do it together,” he whispered.

She was too glad to resist and so together, they lifted her and carried her down the stairs and out into the garden.



They lay her down on the grass and she tried to think of what to do. It wasn’t every day she had to deal with corpses, after all. Her expertise was sort of limited to the walking ones. She looked over at Spike and found his troubled gaze fixed on the girl.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured and his head snapped up.

She saw the guilt written there – after all, she had seen it in Angel often enough – but then he covered it quickly. He swallowed hard and nodded jerkily.

“We should bury her, I guess,” she commented lowly, twisting her hands together nervously. Spike nodded and disappeared into the house but before she could move to follow him, he reappeared with a spade and she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“You’d be surprised what people leave around their houses,” he remarked, moving back to her side.

They stood looking at the body for an uncomfortably long time until she forced herself into motion, taking the spade from Spike and beginning to dig. She dug a shallow hole and together they rolled the body in and she quickly covered it, wanting to gag even as she did.

She quickly fled back into the house, glad that Spike followed her and sank into a chair in the living room, her whole body trembling. Spike pulled a chair out and sat down opposite her, reaching out and taking her hands between his, rubbing them gently.

“I’m cold,” she whined, teeth chattering, her hands shaking in his.

“It’s just shock,” he explained, rubbing her hands a little harder.

“I’ve never…”

She didn’t need to explain: she knew he understood. He simply nodded and continued to rub her hands.



She found herself watching him, watching for the moment when she lost him again to the insanity but suddenly he looked up, bright eyes meeting hers.

“I’m still me,” he murmured, with a tiny smile, “Will be for a while yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Slayer blood,” he explained, eyes just flicking to her neck, “More powerful than normal blood.”

“Oh.”

They fell silent, his hands falling still, his eyes darting nervously to hers.

“Slayer, why-“

“Buffy, there you are!”

Both she and Spike jumped at her mother’s voice and bolted upright, turning to the door where she stood.

“Spike,” Joyce repeated in a softer voice, eyes taking in the vampire, obviously trying to figure out if he was sane or not.

“Mrs. Summers,” he answered with a slight nod of greeting and she didn’t miss her mother’s slight smile before she turned to her. Her mother’s knowing gaze ran over her and landed on her neck.

“You’re hurt.”

She had almost forgotten about the wound on her neck and raised her fingers to the mark.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she lied, eyes flicking to Spike’s, “I had a little accident.”

Her mother didn’t seem quite sure but finally she nodded and moved into the room, producing a bag from behind her back.

“I brought dinner.”



Her mother placed the bag down on the table and began pulling containers of pre-cooked food from it. She glanced at Spike then and smiled gently.

“Would you like some, Spike?”

He looked momentarily surprised but then he gave her a shy smile.

“I’d like that, Mrs. Summers.”

“Joyce, please,” her mother replied, “Mrs. Summers makes me feel so old.”

“Will it make you feel better if I tell you I remember Lincoln being assassinated?” he commented with a shy smile and Joyce laughed, serving out the food.

As she handed them their plates of food, Buffy glanced at Spike.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you ate normal food.”

“Blood’s not exactly a varied diet,” he explained with a soft smile, “But it’s okay, you weren’t to know.”

This Spike seemed strangely less coarse when he spoke, much more intelligent and refined and it made her think back on Angel’s ‘William was a gentleman’ statement. Except that made her think of Angel which right now was not a good thing. Luckily her mother spoke up, turning to Spike.

“It’s good to see you up and about, Spike. You look much better.”

“You’ve been here before?” he asked in confusion, glancing at Buffy.

“You were a bit out of it last time,” Buffy explained quietly.

“Oh, right.”

“Have you had a chance to ask him what he’d like to do, Buffy?” her mother asked and Spike gave her another confused look.

“Not yet. It’s been a… a busy evening.”



She turned to Spike and they shared a small smile.

“Erm, well the thing is, my mom wants me to come home.”

“Oh,” he spoke up softly, eyes moving from hers.

“But, erm, well… I said I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Slayer, really I’m-“

“Don’t even try and tell me you’re fine,” she said firmly, but smiling softly, “And I thought I told you it was Buffy.”

He looked confused for a moment, perhaps not remembering that conversation, but then he gave her a tiny smile and nodded.

“Buffy, right.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “Well, erm… if you want…”

“We’d like you to come and stay with us,” Joyce cut in, giving her a pointed look before turning to smile at Spike.

The vampire was visibly stunned and for a long moment, all he did was look between the two of them in surprise and confusion.

“I couldn’t… I mean, I-“

“You know, us Summers women can be pretty stubborn,” her mother commented with a wide smile and Buffy laughed lightly, “And if we want something done, it tends to happen.”

“I- But-“

He was at a loss for words and with a gentle smile, Buffy reached out and placed a hand over his.

“I’m not sure staying here is good for you. Especially after tonight,” she added in a low voice, hoping her mother wouldn’t ask any questions.

His eyes met hers and then finally, he nodded.

“O-Okay. I mean, that would be… Thank you.”

She smiled widely and squeezed his hand in hers before releasing it and turning back to her dinner.

Moving


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was more than glad of the long-lasting potency of Slayer’s blood as it made packing up Spike’s things a whole lot easier, with him to help. Her mother was packing up her meagre belongings in the room next door as she hurriedly emptied the drawers, throwing the clothes into the large bag her mother had brought. Spike was adding to it almost absentmindedly, taking a long time over every object he found. Probably lost in his memories.

She couldn’t stop though or she would break down. She needed something to keep her hands and her brain busy, to keep her from thinking about the events of this evening. Her hands were trembling and she tried to still them by holding an open drawer tightly, flexing her fingers – and biting into the wood with a snap. In a second, Spike was at her side, watching her with wary eyes.

“Slayer? Buffy?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered shakily, unable to meet his eyes.

His hands came to cover hers and he gently pried them away from the drawer, turning them over and inspecting them. Trembling as she fought to hold back her tears, she could only watch numbly as he smoothed his thumbs over her palms.

“Just lucky you didn’t get any splinters.”

She nodded and when he released her hands, she pulled them back quickly, folding her arms and hiding them.

“Buffy,” he murmured, worried eyes meeting hers hesitantly, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly, “I need to get out of this place.”



He was silent for a pause but then he took a step towards her, forcing her gaze to his with a touch at her shoulder.

“He’ll be back.”

“Even more reason to be gone,” she said firmly, raising her chin defiantly.

He looked like he wanted to say something but with a slight sigh, he moved away again, shaking his head to himself. She forced her attention back to her task.

“Buffy?” her mother called out.

“Almost done!”

She shoved the last of his clothes into the bag and went to the chair where his long black duster was draped. She folded it carefully and went to put it on top of the bag but he stopped her.

“No!”

She raised her eyes to him in surprise – she couldn’t remember ever seeing Spike without this coat.

“Are you sure-“

“I don’t want it,” he snapped, “Leave it.”

Slightly shocked by his outburst, she picked up the coat again and laid it down on the chair. He spoke up the next moment, voice soft and repentant.

“I’m sorry, pet. It’s just… that coat…”

“It’s okay,” she murmured, turning back to him with a slight smile, “I get it. Shall we go?”



She was even more grateful for the Slayer blood’s properties as they made their way across town to her house. She wasn’t sure how they would have managed this had he been in his usual state. His being lucid made it so much easier to get him settled into the spare room.

Yet, despite the Slayer blood, his dreams were still poisoned with bad memories and she found herself going to him in the night. It was so strange to see Spike, her former nemesis, curled up in the spare bed but she shook it off, sitting on the bed beside him and stroking his hair gently. Almost as soon as she touched him, he lashed out and grabbed her hand, golden eyes flying open.

“It’s okay, it’s me,” she said softly, laying her hand over his where he gripped her wrist.

He relaxed almost instantly, pushing himself into a sitting position, pushing his hair back from his face.

“Sorry. Didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” she admitted, “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

She saw his frown and he reached out and just touched her arm.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” he murmured and her eyes flew to his in surprise. It took her a long moment to recover but finally, she found her voice again.

“Why are you defending him?” she asked shakily.

“I don’t rightly know,” he answered with a half-smile, “’Spect it’s ‘coz I can imagine how bad he’s feeling right now ‘bout hurting the woman he loves.”

Her eyes fell to the bedspread between them, her hands twisting in the covers nervously.

“I’m not sure he does…” she whispered hesitantly, raising her eyes to his, “Love me, I mean.”

“Just let his anger get the best of him but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Even when he was prancing round as Angelus he was obsessed with you.”



And that was a memory she really didn’t need reminding of now. She got to her feet quickly and made her way to the door.

“I should let you sleep,” she got out, unable to meet his eyes.

“Buffy,” he called softly as she paused at the door, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine. I know what he was like… I just… I’m not sure I know what he’s like now. He’s… Things are different.”

She wasn’t sure what was bringing her to say these things now, to Spike of all people, but somehow she couldn’t stop herself. Maybe knowing he would be out of it and likely forget the conversation the next morning was also prompting her.

“’Course they are,” he answered softly, “But what else did you expect? Can’t just go from hating each other one minute to loving each other again the next, can you?”

She shook her head, twisting the doorknob in her hand, eyes on the floor.

“I guess not.”

“Can’t just forget it happened.”

“Not even a little bit?” she asked with a sad smile, daring to meet his eyes.

“Wish that was possible, love. But in the real world, you have to face up to what you’ve done, what’s happened.”

She paused and then raised pained eyes to his, confusion in their depths as she met his understanding gaze.

“I’m not… I don’t think I’m… in love with him anymore. I mean, sometimes I am and then… sometimes I’m not.”

“’Coz of what happened earlier?”

“It’s more than that. Things have been weird ever since… and some of the things he’s said… I don’t know.”

She sighed and rested her head against the door.

“Could things get any more confusing?” she quipped sadly.

“You’ll work it out, love.”

She nodded and gave him a weak smile.



“I guess I really should let you get back to sleep,” she murmured, “Try and get some sleep myself.”

“Stop worrying too much for a start. Not much you can do tonight and thinking yourself to a headache isn’t going to help.”

She gave a short laugh and smiled at him warmly.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Figure I owe you, Slayer,” he replied quietly, slanting that shy look at her again.

“You don’t owe me anything, Spike,” she said honestly, “You really don’t.”

He gave her a slight smile and with a smile of her own, she opened the door.

“Oh, and Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“How much longer do you think the, err, Slayer blood will last?”

“Couldn’t rightly say,” he murmured, “We’ll see, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They shared a smile and she finally turned to the door.

“Night, Spike.”

“Night, Buffy. Sleep well.”

If Spike wishing her a good night’s sleep seemed strange, she did not let it show as she closed the door behind her and made her way to her own room.

Split


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to her surprise, the effects of the Slayer blood lasted well into the next day, giving her a first proper glimpse at this post-soul Spike. He was quieter than usual, almost timid at times, but there was still some of the old attitude there in his dry humour. What really stunned her though was his behaviour – polite, courteous, gentle: all things that she struggled to reconcile in her mind with the image of William the Bloody. He was, well for want of a better word, kind of a gentleman. The way he was around her mother was particularly astounding: he asked her about the gallery, talked to her about art, even joked with her, even if his laugh was weak from apparent lack of use.

As the day progressed though, he grew quieter, more withdrawn and she worried that the potency of her blood was starting to wear off. He ate dinner with them but excused himself shortly afterwards – after a grateful ‘thank you’ to her mother – and disappeared up to his room. Her mother turned to her with a worried look and she shrugged.

“He’s been so well today,” Joyce whispered.

“Yeah,” she answered absentmindedly, helping her mother to clear the table, “I think the blood might be wearing off though.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, erm, when he has blood it seems to make him better. But he’s never been… not for this long before.”

“Maybe the change of scenery did him good.”

“Maybe,” Buffy answered quietly, following her mother through to the kitchen, lost in thought.



Spike made no sign of returning to join them for the evening and so she went about preparing blood for him, heating it in the microwave and pouring it – nose carefully pinched against the smell – into a flask. With a grim smile, she closed the lid and threw the packet into the bin. She picked up the flask and was headed for the stairs when there came a quiet knock at the door.

She turned to the door and froze, the small windows in it clearly showing who was on the other side.

“Buffy?”

She threw a quick glance at her mother and placed the flask of blood down on a side table as she approached the door slowly, heart pounding in her chest. She opened it and just stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the figure on the other side.

“Buffy.”

“Angel,” she got out shakily, holding the doorknob tightly, ready to shut the door on him at the first sign of anything she didn’t like.

“Angel!”

She jumped slightly at her mother’s voice and turned just as she appeared next to her.

“Have you come to ask about Spike?” her mother asked and when Buffy glanced at her, she noted a gleam in her mother’s eyes that belied the cluelessness of her question.

“Erm, no. I came to talk to Buffy,” Angel explained awkwardly.

She couldn’t help being a tiny bit amused by the fact that one quarter of the Scourge of Europe, a vampire over two hundred years old, was seemingly nervous around her mother. Afraid, even. Her mother slanted a look at her and then looked back at Angel, her expression carefully blank.

“Well, he’s doing a lot better,” she commented, “Buffy says the blood he had yesterday seems to be helping him. Along with the change of scenery, of course.”

She didn’t miss the flash of golden in his eyes and knew he knew exactly what blood she was talking about.

“That’s good,” he said weakly.



Joyce looked between them once more and smiled softly.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Her mother disappeared into the kitchen but instead of beckoning the vampire in, Buffy stepped out onto the porch with him, crossing her arms as she shut the door behind her. Angel was silent for a long pause, looking her over with those sad eyes, until he finally spoke up.

“Buffy, I’m so sorry.”

“Seem to be hearing that a lot lately,” she muttered bitterly and she saw the look of shock on his face. He continued though, dark eyes watching her.

“I don’t know what happened. I just… I saw you and… and I couldn’t control myself.”

She fidgeted nervously, her whole body tense, eyes watching him with a coldness that was completely at odds with her inner confusion.

“I just saw red.”

“I noticed.”

“I’ve never… I never meant to hurt you, Buffy. I don’t know what made me act like that. It… it must be something left over from… from before.”

“Don’t you even dare!” she burst out before she could stop herself and think it through, “Don’t even try to claim that it was Angelus making you do that. It was you, Angel!”

He looked suitably abashed but she couldn’t stop herself.

“You hit me and you were ready to kill Spike. And why?! Because I feel sorry for him. Because I want to help him and for some reason you can’t stand it!”

“You let him bite you!”

“Actually, if you look properly,” she retorted, tilting her neck, “You’ll see… no bite marks! It was actually Drusilla who cut me. Which you probably knew already, huh?”

“I- I didn’t-“

“Don’t lie to me. You smelled her, didn’t you? You knew she’d been there but you just decided to ignore that little fact so you could have your little jealous rampage!”



She had run out of steam and she turned her face away from him, unable to bear the sight of him.

“Buffy, please,” he pleaded softly, reaching out for her.

“Don’t!” she got out, “Don’t touch me.”

She turned her angry eyes on him and saw him recoil.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Problem is, I think you did,” she whispered.

“Buffy, no-“

“You think if you kill Spike, that would actually make me happier with you?”

“I wasn’t going to. I-“

“I can’t do this,” she whispered tearfully, turning to the door, “I can’t stand here and listen to your lies.”

“Buffy, please,” he whispered, catching her arm but pulling back when she jerked her arm away as she turned back to him reluctantly.

“I… I need time away from you, Angel.”

He looked stunned at her pronouncement and took a shaky step backwards.

“If I want to talk to you, I’ll come to you.”

Before he could say anything else, she quickly opened the door and went into her house, shutting the door on his stunned face.



“Buffy?” her mother called out.

“I’m just bringing Spike his blood,” she called back, knowing she couldn’t face her mother right now.

She grabbed the flask she had set down and rushed up the stairs, slowing her steps as she approached the spare room. She opened the door in a daze and looked to the bed, finding Spike asleep. She gave a sigh of relief and went over to the window, placing the flask down beside it and peeking out behind the blackout curtains. She could just make out Angel’s retreating form further along the street and she quickly replaced the curtain, sinking into the chair next to her and burying her head on her knees.

Her anger had completely disappeared now, replaced with a deep, hollow pain that quickly prompted bitter tears that she couldn’t hold back. What was happening to her life? Getting Angel back had been all she wanted for those long weeks when he had been lost to her but now he was back, the reality was a lot less happy than she had imagined. The tears were coming in floods now and it took all of her effort to keep her sobs to a low, muffled volume.

“Buffy?”

Her head snapped up and she quickly wiped her eyes, jumping to her feet and trying to pretend nothing was wrong at Spike’s concerned look.

“I’m fine,” she got out shakily, “Here’s your blood.”

He took the flask from her but when she went to pull back, he caught her hand, preventing her from moving away. Those bright blue eyes fixed on hers, searching hers as if for some explanation.

“Please,” she whispered, tugging slightly against his grip.



“What’s wrong?”

She hadn’t planned on telling him but the next minute, she sank to the bed and laid her head on the bedcovers beside him, her tears returning anew, ripped from her painfully.

“Angel,” she sobbed helplessly.

Spike said nothing but the next second, she felt his hand against her hair, stroking over it gently as she cried and cried.

“I think… it’s over… between us,” she choked out, burying her head in the soft covers.

“Shh, it’s alright, pet,” was Spike’s reply, his hand still passing softly over her hair, “You cry it all out. It’ll make you feel better.”

Through her misery, she vaguely noted that he was still lucid but it meant nothing as she curled up further, all of the pain in her heart flowing out in a never-ending stream of tears.

Cured


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her head was pounding even before she opened her eyes the next morning and she grimaced as she woke. There was a steady pain just behind her eyes, and her cheeks and under her eyes were sore from crying. She couldn’t even remember when she had stopped crying. She slowly opened her eyes and let out a sigh. She stretched and glanced down when she realised she was still dressed in last night’s clothes and she was on top of the covers, not under them. She frowned when she suddenly realised it wasn’t even her cover, nor was the wall she staring at hers.

It was then she recognised the other presence in the room and before she even turned to look, the tingle at the back of her neck told her exactly who it was. She carefully rolled over, only to find Spike fast asleep next to her, curled up under the covers. She couldn’t help blushing, despite the innocent circumstances, and started to edge towards the side of the bed, doing her best not to wake the vampire.

She was almost free when he suddenly let out a whimper in his sleep and one arm stretched out to wrap around her waist, his face pressed against her side. She froze instantly, caught and with no idea how to get out of this situation.



Well, she could just get off the bed and pray it didn’t wake him. But, somehow, she didn’t even want to risk it: she had rarely seen him so peaceful, especially in his sleep. She raised her hand and stroked his messy hair softly, smiling slightly when he let out that purr-like sound again. He shifted closer to her and she froze again, paralysed by a mixture of embarrassment and pity. He looked so vulnerable though, his head resting by her shoulder and she couldn’t help running her fingers over the arm across her waist.

She didn’t know what it was about this vampire that had turned her into a caring-type. She’d definitely never been like this before, although one look at her mother showed it had to be in her genes somewhere – but she was usually the kind of person who stood by with light words and maybe a pat on the shoulder while someone else did the actually comforting. She just wasn’t all that good at the whole caring, comforting thing and especially since she had become the Slayer, she had been more closed off emotionally than ever before. Maybe knowing just how often people in Sunnydale danced with death had that effect.

The pain this vampire was in though blasted everything she knew out of the water: it didn’t matter that he was a vampire anymore, all that was important was trying to find a way to soothe his pain. Maybe it was because, deep down, she knew she was to blame. Or maybe it was just this man, how he wore every single emotion – and most of them painful ones recently – in his eyes, clear for anyone who looked close enough to see.



She was dragged out of her thoughts when he moved, shaking his head and waking up. Almost instantly, his eyes flew to hers and she gave him a shy smile, unable to stop a blush creeping up her cheeks. He released her quickly and sat up, throwing her a panicked look.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine,” she said with a soft smile, “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed all peaceful.”

He gave her his own shy smile, hands playing with the covers around his hips. He suddenly turned to her though, piercing blue eyes fixing on hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

Drawing her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and bit her lip.

“I’ve been better.”

He frowned slightly and reached out to brush a hand down her arm.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head but gave him a tiny smile.

“Thanks, but I… it’s still a bit too raw, you know?”

“’Course. But if you want to, at any time…”

She nodded and, suddenly remembering where she was, she scuttled of the bed nervously, covering with a laugh.

“I should probably get up and, you know, get ready.”

“Yeah.”

She smiled and moved for the door, but paused in sudden surprise, whirling back round to face him.




“Hey, you’re still sane!”

He laughed lowly and gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No. No. I just mean… you’ve never been like this… not for this long.”

“I think you might have helped with that, Slayer,” he murmured softly, eyes slanting up at her, “Think you might actually have chased the voices away.”

“What? I… How- oh, the blood? My blood did that?!”

“Seems like,” he answered, giving her a soft smile, “Told you it was strong.”

“I know but I didn’t realise it was that strong!”

He smiled again and then averted his eyes from hers, fixing them on the covers where his hands were idly fiddling with the edges.

“Thank you, Buffy,” he whispered, “You don’t… That was a bad place. A bad place for my head.”

He was so adorable when he was all tongue-tied and shy like this and she smiled, moving forward and sitting beside him, her hand resting over his.

“You’re welcome. It wasn’t like it was planned or anything… but I’m glad you’re… better.”

He sent her a shy look with a hesitant smile and she smiled back, her hand squeezing his.

“I’m just glad to see you not… not suffering as much, you know?”

He nodded and swallowed hard, eyes quickly avoiding hers again.

“Don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you, Slay- Buffy.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” she answered lightly, smiling widely.

“Yeah,” he whispered, slanting a doe-eyed look at her that made her feel unusually warm.



“Well, I really should go get some breakfast,” she exclaimed, breaking the strange tension that had filled the room, “Do you want anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

She pushed herself to her feet once more but then turned to him, a slightly cheeky grin on her face.

“Now that you’re, like, normal and all, you might want to consider a shower.”

His expression went quickly from stunned to embarrassed and she smiled softly.

“I’m not saying you smell… but, you know, it couldn’t hurt.”

He gave her a hesitant smile and she laughed lightly, moving to the door again.

“Everything you need’s in the bathroom.”

He looked up quickly and nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome,” she quipped lightly, opening the door and leaving the room quickly, suddenly anxious to get away from the weird awkwardness that had descended over them.

Hurt

She was stunned, and pleased, to find throughout the day that Spike’s prediction had been true and that her blood had seemingly cured him of the insanity that had plagued him since the first day of gaining his soul. The only problem it brought with it was that she wasn’t entirely sure how to treat him, now that he no longer needed her constant presence, reassurance. She had become so used to spending most of her time looking after him – it defined her daily schedule – that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself now.

The change had become immediately clear though when she had been preparing Spike’s blood in the kitchen, only to be joined by him moments later. He had showered and his hair was still damp, his feet bare, as he entered the kitchen hesitantly, flashing her a small smile. Her mother joined them a moment later and Buffy didn’t miss her mother’s wide smile.

“Spike, good morning!”

“Good morning,” he answered shyly, uncertainly, as if he was unused to such commonplace niceties.

Her mother ushered him into the room and guided him onto a stool as she began to move about the kitchen, almost making Buffy dizzy with her movements.

“I have to go to work, but do you want anything?” Joyce asked the vampire, “I’m sure Buffy can make you whatever you want… just as long as it doesn’t involve using the oven.”

“Hey!” she protested and her mother laughed.

“I’m fine,” Spike answered quietly, his eyes darting between the two of them, “Thank you.”

“Buffy, don’t forget to do the laundry.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Right, I’m off. Have a good day.”

Her mother brushed a kiss against her forehead and moved to Spike, just laying a hand on his arm, before giving them both a bright smile and heading out of the kitchen.



There was silence for a moment, broken as the microwave signalled it had finished. She jumped and turned to retrieve the mug of blood, placing it down on the counter in front of the quiet vampire.

“She’s kinda hyper in the morning,” she quipped lightly, trying to draw him out of his pensiveness.

He nodded and gave her a half smile, before taking the mug and sipping from it. Turning away from the slightly nauseating sight, she began to search the cupboards for breakfast. She jumped when suddenly the empty mug was set down beside her and spun round instinctively.

“Sorry,” Spike whispered, avoiding her gaze, “Erm, thanks for…”

Calming her breathing, she smiled and nodded, taking the mug from him and moving to the sink to rinse it.

“Do you want anything?” she asked, “For breakfast? I’m tempted to go for the pop tarts myself.”

“No, I… I’m okay, thank you.”

She nodded and retrieved the food from the cupboard and loaded them into the toaster, humming quietly as she did so. The vampire had retreated back to his stool but she could feel his eyes on her, making the back of her neck tingle.

“I, erm, I guess we just hang around today. Not much to do,” she commented, rambling in her nervousness, “We could watch TV or… I don’t know. Whatever you want. Or, you know, if you don’t want-”

“TV sounds good,” he interrupted with what sounded like laughter in his voice and she turned to him, surprised by the burst of warmth that his soft smile gave her.

“Good. TV it is.”



After seemingly interminable channel-surfing, they eventually settled on an awful made-for-TV movie – a ridiculous attempt at a horror story, complete with heavily-accented, mysterious vampires. Although, maybe that bit wasn’t so wrong.

“You must find this stuff really stupid,” she remarked to the silent vampire at her side, “All that fake blood and really crazy long fangs… All that Dracula stuff as well.”

“Dracula’s real,” he replied absently.

“No way!”

He gave her that shy smile, eyes slanted towards her.

“’Fraid so. Owes me eleven pounds.”

“You’ve met Dracula?!”

“Met a lot of people over the years,” he murmured quietly, his eyes sliding away from hers. She could almost see him descending into his memories, a faint painful glint brightening his eyes.

“This is boring. Let’s find something else.”

She scooped up the control, hoping to distract him with something else. To her surprise, he reached out and caught her hand, stalling her.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tiptoe around me, worrying that I might break.”

She was silent, biting her lip momentarily before finally speaking up, glancing up at him from under her eyelashes.

“I know. I just… there’s no need to make you think about those things. Painful things.”

“Not much you can do to stop them, pet,” he answered softly, turning from her once more, his eyes fixed blindly on the wall.

“Is it bad?” she whispered, surprised by her own question, as was he.



He turned back to her and gave her a weak smile.

“Not always. And it’s… it’s not as bad as it was. When I was… well, off my cracker, there was no break from the… the voices and the… memories.”

She frowned, her heart going out to him at the pain in his voice. She found herself reaching out and twining her fingers around his and although he squeezed them gently in his, he did not seem really aware of the gesture.

“All I could see was… things that I did… the people I hurt. The Slayers, even.”

He slanted a look at her with those words but then averted his eyes again quickly.

“Even you. The things I would have done to you if I’d got the chance…”

“It’s in the past,” she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly in hers, “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

He turned tortured eyes on hers and smiled bitterly.

“Guess so. I shouldn’t be though. You should have dusted me ages ago.”

“You know I couldn’t-“

“I meant before,” he corrected, “Should’ve got rid of me when you had the advantage, when I was stuck in that… that bloody chair.”

She saw the flash of pain and shame that the memory of being in a wheelchair brought to his eyes and squeezed his hand gently.

“That was never really our style, was it?” she answered softly, “Anyway, I had bigger things to worry about.”

“Don’t know whether to be offended by that.”

She smiled and he glanced at her, offering a soft smile of his own.

“So, do I get a get out of jail free card now? On account of the soul?”

“Something like that,” she murmured, her smile fading, “Unless you give me a reason to doubt you.”



She was lost to her thoughts now, lost to the painful idea that she had been driven to doubt the one person she had given everything to: heart, body and soul. She didn’t even realise the tears had returned until she was drawn into Spike’s embrace and she found herself curled up against him, her tears tracing down her cheeks and dripping onto his shirt. He said nothing, simply holding her loosely, his hand stroking slowly over her hair.

Even when she began to calm, she was reluctant to move, enjoying the simple comfort of being held. Spike was definitely one of those caring types, she mused idly. She wiped her eyes but did not move from her position and he continued his gentle caress over her hair.

“I hate that he can do this to me,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “I want to just hate him and be… be over with it.”

“S’not that easy though, is it, love?” he murmured softly, his breath stirring her hair.

She shook her head and sighed.

“I want to hate him… but I just can’t. I couldn’t even hate him when he was Angelus… not even when he… when he killed Jenny… because I’d look at him and all I could see was Angel.”

She sniffed miserably and he squeezed her against him slightly, his hand stroking her shoulder.

“But I can’t love him either… because he… he’s not who I thought he was.”

A sob escaped her and she buried her head against him as she fought to hold back the tide that was so ready to overwhelm her.

“That’s the thing about love though, innit?” he murmured, his fingers moving absentmindedly through her hair, “Makes you see things differently. Love’s blind and all that. First love too… it’s something special.”

“Love hurts,” she got out painfully.

“Preaching to the choir, love,” he answered with a soft chuckle, “It does hurt. Hurts like a bitch… but sometimes it’s worth it.”



She was silent for a moment, taking in his words.

“But is it worth it? What if there’s nothing left but the hurt?” she whispered.

“Then it depends on the type of person you are, doesn’t it? Are you the type of person who’s prepared to take that? Or are you the kind strong enough to walk away?”

She nodded softly, letting out a little sigh.

“Which kind are you?” she asked.

He went quiet for a moment, his hand stilling in its motions, but a moment later he spoke up.

“Was never strong enough to walk away. Always been Love’s Bitch… don’t think even the soul can change that.”

“Maybe you’re a better person than me,” she got out with a bitter laugh, “I just… all I can feel right now is that it’s too much… too much hurt. Too much hurt to make up for just a few months of happiness.”

He said nothing, falling silent as she sank against him, his hand passing smoothly over her hair as she let out a sad sigh.

Patrol


Once again, thanks to all the reviewers. Always good to hear what you're thinking about this...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day passed surprisingly quickly after that, spent watching mindless television, doing the laundry as promised and with distractions of every possible kind to keep them both from thinking about the things which were troubling them most. They ate a quiet dinner and not long after, Buffy felt the sudden urge to be outside, in the dark, fighting. The last time she had patrolled seemed like a lifetime ago. When she suggested her plan though, her mother wasn’t exactly pleased.

“But, Buffy, do you really have to go out looking for trouble?” Joyce asked worriedly, “I mean, surely bad things will come to you. You don’t have to go after them, do you?”

“It’s my duty, Mom. They won’t come to me so I have to stop them… out there.”

She could see her mother really didn’t like the idea but had no idea what to say to pacify her.

“You don’t need to worry, Joyce.”

She was surprised as Spike spoke up, eyes flicking to her before turning towards her mother.

“She’ll be safe. She’s… well, she’s the best Slayer I’ve ever seen.”

She found herself blushing at the unexpected praise and he sent her a shy smile.

“Don’t know anything she couldn’t take out. If you’d ever seen her fight, you’d know there’s nothing to worry about.”

“She’s really that good?” Joyce asked, seemingly out of curiosity as opposed to disbelief.

“She is,” he answered simply, eyes fixed on her for a long moment before he turned his attention back to Joyce, “In my professional opinion, that is.”

Joyce smiled warily and then turned to her with a sigh of defeat.

“You’ll be home before midnight?”

“Of course.”



She was on her feet in seconds, ready to go, but her mother’s voice halted her momentarily.

“Why don’t you take Spike with you?”

She turned back to them, eyes flicking from her mother to Spike and back again.

“I’m sure getting out will do you both good… And I have to admit, I’d feel better if you had someone with you.”

She glanced at Spike and gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I mean, if you want to…”

“Wouldn’t say no to a bit of fresh air,” he admitted with a slight smile.

“Okay, cool. You ready to go?”

“Sure,” he answered, rising to his feet and moving to her side, “Gonna be interesting, seeing it from the other side.”

She smiled widely and pulled on her jacket as they moved towards the door.

“Be careful!” her mother called, “Both of you.”

“Bye, Mom!” she called back with a laugh, opening the door and beckoning Spike in front of her.

She didn’t realise how much she had missed being outside at night until she stepped down onto the path and took a deep breath.

“Hmm, I missed this,” she murmured absentmindedly.

“Sadist.”

Surprised at Spike’s low comment, she turned to him in shock, and then when she saw his half-smile, she started to laugh, shaking her head slightly.

“Thanks.”

He smiled softly again and they set off into the night side-by-side.



“I usually stop by at Giles’ before patrol… you know, see if he’s heard anything… if there’s anything particular I need to look out for.”

Spike nodded, hands shoved in his pockets as they walked through the leafy, quiet suburbs of Sunnydale. He looked so odd without his jacket, smaller somehow, but she couldn’t imagine what sort of bloody memories were associated with his once-prized possession. Before she knew it, she was opening her mouth and asking him.

“Spike? Your jacket… I mean… I was just wondering…”

At first he looked stunned, but it soon turned to a weary sort of acceptance that suddenly made him look a lot older.

“You want to know why I don’t want to wear it.”

“It’s just… you’ve always worn it. Every time I ever saw you, you had it on.”

“Loved that jacket,” he murmured, half to her, half to himself, “Loved what it represented… at one time. Now… it’s too much.”

She fell silent and he paused in his step, his eyes focussed on the floor for a long time before he finally raised them to her.

“Took that jacket from a Slayer… after I killed her.”

“Oh.”

It was like a blow to the solar plexus, winding her. She had never even thought that it might be a prize, a trophy stripped from one of his victims. It made her shudder, but when she saw the miserable look on his face, she quickly covered her uneasiness.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to, like, pry or anything.”

He nodded slowly and they continued on their path to Giles’ in silence.



They reached Giles’ a few minutes later and she noticed the way he hung back.

“We won’t stay long,” she reassured him as they moved to the door and he nodded, hands still stuffed in his pockets.

“Are you okay with this?” she asked, drawing to a halt and watching him with concern, mistakenly taking his nervousness as a sign of his unwillingness to take part in the life which had been so recently the opposite to his.

“Yeah, I just… Not looking forward to the inquisition.”

“Huh?!”

He gave her a small smile, boots scuffing at the ground.

“The Watcher and all your friends know, right? Know ‘bout the soul and all?”

“Yes.”

“Gonna be a mite curious to see the freak show then, I reckon.”

His words, tainted with anger, shyness and embarrassment, stilled her for a moment but then she took a step forward and laid her hand on his arm.

“Not afraid, are you?”

“Of course not!” he retorted and she knew once again that his competitiveness would work in her – and his – favour.

“Well, let’s go,” she said softly, “I’ll look after you, I promise.”

She gave him a teasing smile and was glad when he scowled at her – but the next minute, darted worried eyes towards the door as it opened.

“Buffy!”

She turned to her Watcher, staying close to Spike, and didn’t miss the tension in his body as Giles’ curious gaze moved to him.

“I’m off on patrol so I can’t stay long,” she announced, drawing her Watcher’s gaze back to her.

“Of course,” he answered, darting another look at Spike before turning to move back inside, “Come in.”



Spike gave a look of surprise and it took her a few moments to realise why: he had been invited in with no preamble and with no crossbow aimed at him. She smiled and tugged on his arm, urging him on.

“You didn’t think I’d make you stand outside?” she asked with a smile and he sent a confused look her way before shaking his head and following her inside the house.

It was only as she shut the door behind them that she realised she hadn’t even considered the possibility that now showed itself: not only Giles to deal with, but the whole Scooby gang. As several pairs of curious eyes fell on the silent vampire, she flashed him an apologetic smile and moved into the room, hoping to distract attention from him.

“So, any news?!” she asked cheerily, leaning against the back of the sofa – and not so subtly obstructing their view of the vampire.

“You mean apart from the whole end of the world thing your boyfriend tried to pull?” Cordelia remarked with a smug smile.

“Yeah, apart from that,” she answered weakly, only a little heartened by Xander’s apologetic smile on his girlfriend’s behalf.

“It’s been surprisingly quiet of late,” Giles spoke up, seemingly unable to stop his wandering eyes from being drawn to the vampire who lingered by the doorway.

“Exactly why I need to get out and kick some vampire ass. They’ll think they’re safe.”

“Ah, yes, you said you were going on patrol. Are you sure you’re ready, Buffy?”

“Yes, Giles. I really need to be out of the house.”

“Well, yes, I see,” he commented, polishing his glasses and replacing them, only to throw another quick glance at the silent vampire.



A silence fell over the room and she glanced at the vampire, giving him a wry smile that he returned halfheartedly.

“So, Spike, how’s it going?”

She wasn’t the only one surprised by Oz’s question – not least because he was usually as silent as the vampire was now – and she glanced at Spike again, not missing his own surprise.

“Fine,” he answered quietly, eyes meeting Oz’s and then moving to hers, “I’m just, err, gonna wait for you outside, Slayer.”

She couldn’t help but smile as he made a quick escape, shutting the door behind him. She shook her head and turned back to her friends.

“Well, that went well.”

She turned to Oz and smiled genuinely.

“Thanks though. For trying.”

He shrugged in reply and she perched on the edge of the sofa, letting out a sigh.

“He’s, like, crazy quiet,” Xander commented lowly, as if the vampire might hear him.

“Better than just crazy,” she remarked, “Trust me.”

“He seems better though,” Giles commented.

“Yeah. He’s slowly getting better. I mean, once he started to feed again, he started to get less crazy. This is his second crazy-free day.”

Giles nodded, absorbing this information and looking for all the world like he would enjoy quizzing her on the subject. Willow spoke up though, preventing him from continuing.

“And… how’s Angel?”



She could almost feel her friends’ anticipation as they waited for her answer and she sighed, averting her eyes from them.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” Xander commented.

“You didn’t sleep with him and send him evil again, did you?” Cordelia blurted out, “Because, really, that would just be stupid.”

“Thanks,” she bit out, “And no. He’s fine. We’re just… we’re spending some time, err… not seeing each other, at the moment.”

“You broke up?!” Willow exclaimed in astonishment, wide eyes watching her with surprise.

“Maybe,” she answered sadly, unable to lie to her friend, “I don’t know. There was a lot of shouting and… well, I’m just not ready to talk to him right now.”

“Wow,” Willow breathed.

“So, we got his soul back for no reason,” Cordelia stated in her bored tone, “Great.”

Forcing herself not to react to Cordelia’s provocation, she turned quickly to Giles.

“I’m patrolling the south side of town today. Only until midnight though. My mom imposed a curfew.”

“How is she taking things?” he asked.

“Really well, actually. She was a bit, like, do you have to go out and fight but then I explained and… well, actually I guess Spike convinced her with his ‘she’s the best Slayer I’ve ever seen’ line.”

“He said that?” Willow asked.

“Yeah. Must mean something, coming from someone who killed two of us, right?” she remarked, and instantly thought of the jacket he had taken from a dead Slayer. She straightened, her expression turning sombre.

“Anyway, patrol awaits.”

“You’ll let me know how it went tomorrow?” Giles asked.

“Of course.”

He nodded and with a short ‘goodbye’ she left the house and quickly set off with Spike at her side.

Rupture


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were both silent for long minutes, until finally she spoke up.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” he murmured, “Knew what to expect.”

They fell silent again and she sighed, wishing things with her friends weren’t so weird after everything with Angel.

“I like the wolf. He’s got class.”

She turned to him in surprise, dragged out of her thoughts.

“How do you know he’s a werewolf?”

“Could smell it on him. Must be hard on Red. Boyfriend turns into a monster once a month.”

“At least he turns back though,” she whispered sadly, “And he doesn’t get a chance to hurt anybody.”

“How so?”

“We lock him up during the full moon.”

He gave a snort that might have been amusement and she turned to him in surprise again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “S’just… you know locking him up doesn’t change what he is, right?”

“It stops him from hurting people.”

“Maybe. But one day… Never mind.”

She was tempted to push him to continue, but she was almost convinced she didn’t want to know what he was thinking, judging by the dark shadow in his expression.



They reached one of the large cemeteries about ten minutes later and she was instantly on the lookout. She could feel the urge to fight spreading through her, setting every nerve ending alight, bringing her to life. And all the time, the constant sharp prickle at the back of her neck, warning her of Spike’s presence at her back. Not that he constituted much of a threat anymore – but it was nice to know her Slayer awareness was on top form. If only there was an actual threat to deal with though…

After fifteen minutes, she was starting to get impatient and she suggested they move on to another cemetery.

“You really love this,” Spike commented and she stopped in surprise.

“I don’t love it, I just… this is what I do. It’s my job.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t be overjoyed if a vamp appeared right now.”

“Well, yeah, but just because I’m bored, not because I like violence.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her but she was so pleased to see him back to some of his old mannerisms that she almost forgot what he seemed to be doubting.

“Let’s go,” she commented with a smile and a roll of her eyes and they headed for the large gates.

Just before they reached the exit though, she suddenly noticed Spike straighten up, vampire senses seemingly picking up on something she hadn’t noticed yet. He decided not to share though and she frowned, turning back to the path – and almost colliding with a figure stood in the gate. She came to an abrupt stop and gasped, eyes flying to brown ones before she quickly shut down her expressions, arms crossing across her chest.

“Angel.”

“Buffy,” he breathed, dark eyes fixed on her for a long moment before he glanced at Spike, “Spike, nice to see you up and about.”



“Don’t get too excited, eh, old man,” Spike retorted, the smirk she hadn’t seen in so long spreading across his face, “After all, wouldn’t want that pesky curse to kick in, would we?”

“Your pesky curse as well now, Spike.”

“Well, yeah,” he murmured, subdued.

“If you’re finished, boys,” she stated pointedly, turning back to Angel, “What do you want?”

“I know you said to stay away but I… I had to see you, Buffy. I needed to talk to you… maybe explain-“

“How you gonna explain it away then, Peaches?” Spike piped up, “Fit of passion?”

She was almost glad that riling up his grandsire restored some of Spike’s former liveliness, but still wasn’t sure it was great, for any of them. Angel didn’t look overly happy and she was sure he had been practising that displeased scowl on her, only to test out the finished product on Spike.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, I’d like an explanation myself,” Spike remarked, eyes just flicking to hers with a hint of uncertainty before he squared up to his grandsire again, “After all, I was the one you were trying to off.”

“Spike, I swear-“ Angel bit out, taking a step forward, fist clenched.

“Don’t even think about it, Peaches,” Spike snarled, “I’m compos mentis now so you try anything, you’re going to regret it, trust me. About time I got you back for all the crap you gave me when I was in that chair!”

She could clearly see that what had been harmless taunting was turning into something serious – could spot the signs on both vampires’ faces – and she stepped in between them, placing a hand on Spike’s chest.

“Spike.”



He eased off with a nod and took a step back as she turned to Angel.

“So talk… and make it quick.”

“Can we go somewhere private?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking to his grandchilde.

“Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of Spike.”

His expression was a mixture of suppressed anger and surprise but she refused to budge, arms crossed tightly across her chest. His expression softened into that look she knew so well and she felt her heart jump involuntarily.

“I’m leaving.”

There was a full minute of silence before she finally got herself together.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” she whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded.

“I’m leaving Sunnydale,” he repeated softly, eyes darting behind her and back to hers again, “I can’t stay, Buffy.”

“You… I don’t understand,” she murmured, fighting the tears that seemed all too ready to flow nowadays.

“I’ve been thinking about it non-stop since… I have to, Buffy. For… for us. For you. You said you didn’t want to see me-”

“I didn’t mean you had to leave town!” she protested shakily, her voice thick with emotion, “I just meant… I just needed space.”

“You need someone… someone real. Someone who can be with you properly.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” she murmured, one hand going to her pounding head.

“It’s for the best.”



She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – trapped in the awful realisation that her life was falling apart right in front of her eyes.

“Buffy.”

Angel had stepped forward and gently took her arm but she shook him off, his movement drawing her out of her daze.

“How could you?” she whispered heartbrokenly and she saw his face twist with guilt.

“Buffy-“

He went to reach for her again but she evaded his grip, turning away from him.

“Just leave me alone.”

He hesitated and she could feel his eyes on her but she refused to meet his gaze.

“I’ll let you know when I’m going,” he murmured softly but she made no response and she finally heard him move away.

She stood there in stunned silence, one shaking hand coming to cover her mouth, eyes closed to force back the tears. She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder – she had forgotten about Spike’s presence – but when she looked up and met his compassionate gaze, she sagged. He caught her before she could hit the floor and held her tightly as she sobbed bitterly, her heart shattering in that moment.

She was only marginally aware as he wrapped an arm around her waist and began to guide her out of the cemetery and back home. She couldn’t stop the tears – you’d think she’d have run out by now – and she buried her head against his shoulder as they made their way slowly across town.



She only realised where she was when they entered her house and she straightened, listening intently for her mother. She couldn’t bear facing her right now.

“Come on,” Spike coaxed softly, hand at her elbow, “She’s asleep.”

With his supporting hand at her elbow, she tiptoed up the stairs, her hand shaking as she braced herself against the banister. She opened the door to her room wearily and sank onto the edge of the bed. She had thought the idea of not seeing Angel for a few days – maybe weeks – was painful enough, but this, this was whole new heights of pain. He was leaving her… She didn’t realise she had spoken out loud, or that Spike was still by her side, until he answered softly.

“He’s an idiot,” he murmured, on his knees as he slipped off her boots. He straightened and coaxed her jacket from her shoulders.

“Come on, lie down and try to get some sleep.”

“How can I sleep when…”

“I know,” he soothed, placing her jacket on a chair and returning to her side, gently guiding her under the covers, “Just try though. Save it till the morning, yeah?”

His voice was softer than ever, his hand caressing her hair as she curled up, tears still trailing down her cheeks. Spike went to move but she caught his arm, halting him.

“Stay with me. Please.”

He nodded and shifted onto the bed, propped up awkwardly against the headboard beside her.

“It hurts,” she choked out painfully.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand continuing its soft caress.

Sniffling miserably, she shuffled over until she could rest her head against him, needing the comfort of a gentle touch. He wrapped one arm around her tightly, holding her against him as she cried herself to sleep.

Aftermath


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke early the next morning, finding herself alone, and sighed, feeling hardly rested after a night plagued with bad dreams. She sighed again and rolled onto her back, her eyes fixed mindlessly on the ceiling. She could hear the faintest of sounds coming from downstairs and with a sinking feeling she remembered it was the weekend and her mother would not be at work. She just didn’t think she could face anyone today. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and not leave it for a week at least.

She had never imagined that asking him for space – not completely unreasonable, surely? – would drive Angel away from her, from her town. Even though she wasn’t sure about her feelings, something in her had clung to the memory, the illusion of what they had once had. She cared about him, despite – or maybe because of – everything they had been through together. He had been everything to her such a short time ago and now… now he was leaving her behind because he wanted her to have someone real, whatever the hell that meant.

Her face crumpled up at the memory but she refused to break down, part of her refusing to shed any more tears on his account. Not this morning, anyway. She rolled out of bed and wrapped her dressing gown around her as she stumbled through to the shower. She relaxed under the hot spray, closing her eyes as it blasted her face, washing away no doubt unattractive panda eyes.

She was grateful for one thing at least and that was Spike. If not for him, she probably would have just curled up right there on the ground and waited for the first vampire to come along and finish her. The idea of Spike being anything but sarcastic to her would have been ridiculous just a month ago but the vampire she knew now was, well, different.



She returned to her room and threw on some old tracksuit bottoms and a large baggy sweater and made her way downstairs, knowing she could not put it off much longer. She found her mother and Spike talking quietly in the kitchen but as soon as she entered, they both fell silent and she could see from her mother’s compassionate expression that Spike had told her at least something of what had happened.

“Morning,” she said quietly, slipping onto a stool.

“Morning, honey. Would you like some pancakes? I was just about to make some.”

“I’m not really hungry,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the worktop.

“Well, maybe just one? For me?” her mother coaxed and she finally succumbed, nodding jerkily and risking a glance at her before returning her eyes to the worktop.

She felt exhausted – even more so than she ever had looking after Spike – and let her hair fall around her face, hiding her from the others. The kitchen was awkwardly quiet and she wished someone would talk and break the tension silence.

“Spike said you went to see Mr. Giles?” her mother asked and she raised her head, half-grateful for the distraction.

“Yeah. Just to let him know I was patrolling. I should probably let him know I didn’t get round to killing anything…”

She sighed and rested her head against her hand. Somehow, she just didn’t have the energy to do anything.



Moments later, her mother placed a pancake down in front of her and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Eat up.”

If the earlier look hadn’t been enough to signal that her mother knew, the sudden quick hug she gave her was definite proof. She pulled away quickly but it was enough and Buffy bowed her head, fighting the tears as she picked at the pancake.

“I’m just going to take the trash out,” her mother remarked and disappeared out the back door moments later, leaving them alone in silence.

A long pause passed before Spike spoke, sliding onto a stool next to her.

“I just told her the basics. I hope you don’t mind. I just thought maybe…”

“No, thanks,” she whispered, raising watery eyes to his, “Means I don’t have to tell her.”

She gave him a weak smile and stabbed weakly at her pancake.

“Thanks for last night as well.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly in a state to be out in the open like that. Wanted to get you home and safe.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, giving up on her pancake with a sigh and dropping her fork.

He reached out and placed a hand over hers carefully.

“You want me to kill him?” he asked seriously.

Her shock quickly turned to a smile that soon transformed into hysterical laughter and she bent over double, holding her stomach. He gave her that shy smile – so at odds with the assassination offer of moments ago - and she laughed even harder.



Her mother, coming back in a minute later, seemed astounded to find her laughing when just moments before, she had been so quiet. She forced herself to calm down and gave the vampire a wry smile.

“Thanks.”

He nodded, averting his gaze shyly and fixing his attention on Joyce. She sobered quickly and gave her mother a sad smile.

“I think I’m going to head back to my room.”

“Are you sure?” her mother queried, worried eyes watching her.

“Yeah. I kinda need some alone-time right now,” she admitted wearily, “A lot of things to think about, you know.”

Her mother nodded slowly, smiling softly as she stepped forward and stroked her hand over her hair.

“Just don’t stay up there alone all day, okay? It’s not good for you.”

She smiled wearily and got to her feet.

“If you want, maybe we could go to the mall later,” her mother suggested gently and she turned to give her a sad smile.

“Maybe.”

She turned to the vampire, holding his gaze for a long moment before turning and leaving the room. She fled back to her room and lay down on her bed, curling up in her pillow and biting her lip furiously to hold back the tears. She wouldn’t cry for him, she wouldn’t. Still tired from her restless night, it wasn’t long before she fell asleep.



She was woken by the softest touch at her shoulder and she opened her eyes slowly.

“Spike?”

“Shh,” he murmured softly, settling on the bed next to her, his fingers stroking over her cheek.

“It hurts.”

“I know,” he whispered, “Let me make it better.”

He lowered his head and brushed a kiss across her lips before pressing another to her cheek, then to her neck. She arched into his touch and closed her eyes, one arm winding around his neck and holding him close as his hands smoothed over her arms. He pulled back slowly, blue eyes shining down at her.

“Better?”

“Not yet,” she whispered, drawing him close and meeting his lips with hers. His kiss was tender, gentle, his mouth so cool against hers.

“Buffy,” he murmured lowly against her lips.



“Buffy.”

The voice and the hand at her shoulder startled her awake and she sat up quickly, meeting her mother’s concerned gaze with wide eyes.

“Mom!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t want you sleeping all day. You won’t sleep tonight.”

“Oh right… yeah. Yeah, I see.”

“Are you okay, honey?” her mother asked softly, brushing her hair back from her face, “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a shaky smile, “I just had a… a weird dream.”

Her mother smiled and brushed her hand over her shoulder.

“How would you like that mall trip?”

“I, err, I guess.”

“Come on then,” her mother coaxed, “Maybe we could get you some new clothes.”

Usually the idea of new clothes would have been enough to make her week but now she just felt numb, even as she forced a smile. She supposed getting out of the house was a good idea. Especially after that crazy dream which just made no sense. She shook her head and pushed herself off the bed, looking down at her clothes with a grimace.

“I’m just going to change into something a little more presentable.”

Her mother smiled and left the room, leaving her in a confused daze over her strange dream. She soon shook it off though, dismissing it as just a dream, and got ready for her outing.

Therapy


A/N: Oh my God, I'm so excited! As you can see from the new Summary, this has been nominated for Best Alternate Reality at the Fang Fetish Awards and for Best General Saga and Best Spike Characterization at the Spuffy Awards! Amazing. Thank you to whoever nominated me.

Also, as always thank you for the amazing response. I appreciate every review!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a good few hours of retail therapy, she was feeling somewhat better – after all, what seventeen-year-old girl wouldn’t be happy with new shoes? – but her cheer was quickly running out. Her mother was being great, not mollycoddling her or constantly cooing over her or even trying to make her talk about it, but giving her some space and distracting her with talk of everything and anything. As the sun started to set though, she was more than ready to go home and maybe have another attempt at patrolling – with actual slaying this time, hopefully.

“Are you ready to go home?” her mother spoke up, as if reading her mind.

“Definitely,” she answered with a slight smile, “Thanks for this, Mom. I really… I needed the distraction.”

Her mother reached out and placed a hand over hers.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

She smiled and they got to their feet, bags gathered up in their hands. As they were heading for the exit, they suddenly spotted two familiar figures: Xander and Willow. They spotted the two of them instantly and headed for them, both smiling widely and Buffy realised that she’d actually sort of missed her friends.

“Buffster!” Xander greeted her as soon as he was within earshot, “Mrs. Summers.”

“Hello, you two. I’m just going to pop into the bookshop, Buffy. Come get me when you’re ready to go.”

Her mother gave her a soft squeeze on her arm and with a little wave at her friends, disappeared in the direction of the bookshop, leaving the three friends alone.



“So, what are you guys doing here?” Buffy asked with a smile, moving to the side and leaning against the wall.

“We just came to hang,” Willow explained, “See if there was anything interesting going on.”

“You know everything’s dead in the summer.”

“Literally, in Sunnydale!” Xander quipped and both girls smiled.

“So, Buffy, what are you doing here?”

“Mom-sponsored retail therapy. After last night, I needed it.”

“Oh, yeah, how was patrol with the Undead Wonder?” Xander asked with a wide smile.

“Stake any vamps?” Willow asked eagerly, throwing a warning glance at her friend.

“I wish,” she groused, “No action to be had. Although staking one vamp was definitely looking tempting.”

“Spike annoying you?” Xander asked with an understanding smile.

“What?! Oh no, not Spike,” she answered absentmindedly, having been descending into bad memories of the night before, “Angel.”

“Angel?” Willow repeated, eyes going wide, “I thought you two were like… apart.”

“We are. He showed up to tell me he was leaving town.”

Somehow, the more she said it, the less it upset her and the more it made her angry.

“He what?!”

“He’s leaving Sunnydale. Apparently it’s best for me. Because I need to be with someone ‘real’,” she got out bitterly, frowning at the memory of his words.



She was drawn out of her daze when Willow stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m getting there,” she answered with a tiny smile, “Last night… well, last night I was mess. But the more I keep thinking about it, the more I’m just… angry.”

“He’s an idiot,” Xander piped up decisively and she smiled softly.

“That’s what Spike said. He also offered to kill him, which is looking more and more tempting the more I think about it.”

She sighed and turned her attention back to her friends.

“So, yeah, in definite need of retail therapy,” she commented, gesturing to the bags she was holding.

“I know exactly the thing to cheer you up!” Xander declared, “Bronze-ing.”

“I don’t know, guys, I-“

“Come on,” Willow coaxed, “You can get out and show Angel just what he’s missing out on.”

“I’m really not in the mood, guys. Not tonight. Tonight I just want to slay and then curl up and die.”

Both gave her a sympathetic look and she gave them a twisted smile.

“How about next week then?” Willow suggested, “When you feel more up to it.”

“Sure,” she agreed weakly, “I could probably do with a night out.”

“Great!”

“Well, I better go get my mom,” she murmured, “Time we got back and made dinner anyway.”

Willow moved forward and gave her an impromptu hug and she hugged her friend back tightly, smiling weakly at Xander over her shoulder.

“Look after yourself, okay?” Xander remarked softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. She nodded and pulled back with a watery smile.

“I’ll see you guys next week.”

They nodded and she finally moved away to find her mother.



As they barrelled through the front door, laden with bags, they were astounded to smell food cooking and they shared a confused look before heading through to the kitchen. They found Spike at the oven, stirring something with one hand while adding a sprinkle of herbs to another and he turned to them with a start, an embarrassed look crossing his face.

“I just, erm,” he started, clearing his throat nervously and turning to them, “Didn’t know when you’d be back. Thought you might want dinner ready when you, err, got back.”

“Spike, that’s wonderful of you!” her mother exclaimed, moving forward and placing her bags down, “Really, you didn’t have to.”

“Didn’t have anything better to do,” he murmured shyly with a shrug.

“You sweet boy!” her mother remarked, going up to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “We’re going to have to hold onto you, aren’t we, Buffy?”

She was sure if vampires could blush, he would be bright red right about now and she smiled softly, nodding as she moved into the kitchen.

“Definitely. Our very own vampire chef.”

He smiled shyly – but she could see the pleasure it gave him and it made her wonder just why he was so unused to praise and affection. Not wanting to think about that though, she slid onto a stool, watching him as he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly mixing and adding ingredients.

“Well, you’ve already beat my cooking record,” she remarked with a smile, “Nothing’s on fire yet.”

He flashed her another shy smile but quickly averted his eyes, turning back to the cooking.



About twenty minutes later, they were all seated at the dinner table, tucking into the meal.

“This is divine, Spike,” her mother commented after a few bites, “Where did you get this recipe?”

“Just something I improvised,” he answered with a hesitant smile.

“Amazing!” her mother exclaimed, giving a hum of pleasure as she took another bite.

“It’s really great,” she added, simply for the pleasure of seeing just how his eyes lit up with the praise. He bowed his head quickly though, turning to his own meal and she smiled affectionately.

Post-soul, he was such a strange contradiction of shyness and confidence and she wondered if he had been like this at all before, but she had been blind to it because all she had seen was a vampire, her enemy. She knew he could care, could love – had seen it clearly with Drusilla – but what if there was so much more hiding behind the Big Bad façade he had constructed? If she was honest, she couldn’t wait to find out. She forced her attention back to the present and turned to the vampire.

“So, what have you been up to this afternoon?”

“Not much,” he replied, “Had a nap… watched some TV… started a book.”

“The English Patient?” her mother questioned eagerly.

“Yeah.”

“I really think you’ll enjoy it. It’s one of my favourites. And I’m sure the historical side of it will be especially fascinating for you.”

“Yeah. Always loved Italy. Especially after the war.”

She was lost – after all, books and history weren’t exactly her best subjects, as Giles would easily testify. Seemingly sensing her confusion, Spike turned to her with a smile.

“Anyway, I’m only a few pages in. So, what did you buy at the mall then?”



She would never have imagined that Spike would fit so easily into their life. Her mother adored him and she couldn’t help but like him too. She felt more comfortable around him than she did around some of her friends and they spent several late nights talking, exchanging stories – and even more nights patrolling together, she relishing the company of a fellow fighter. It wouldn’t be a lie if she said that Spike had become one of her closest friends in the last few weeks.

At first, she had been drawn to him because of what she felt was her duty but now she sought out his company for the enjoyment she derived from it. He had his moments of pensiveness, but he was regaining his confidence on a daily basis and she was more than glad to see it. He made it so easy to forget that they had once been enemies and whenever she did suddenly remember, it seemed so strange, now, when they were so close.

He also made it easy to forget about his grandsire, who she had heard nothing from in several days. She dreaded the next meeting – dreaded the announcement of his departure – but she was learning to deal with the pain. And a night out at the Bronze with her friends was just what she needed to forget about Angel and enjoy her life for one night.

Partying


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Spike!” she called out, pounding her fist against the door, “Hurry up! I haven’t even done my hair yet!”

She heard him chuckle from within the bathroom and she frowned, knocking on the door again.

“Pleeease?! Come on, it’s not even like you need a mirror!”

There was a long silence but then the door swung open. She forced her wide eyes from his bare chest, certain she was blushing, and gave him a wide smile.

“Thank you!”

“You owe me, Slayer.”

“Yeah, yeah, move it,” she teased, nudging him out of the way and moving into the bathroom, “Some of us need much longer to make ourselves sexy.”

“What can I say?” he drawled, “Some of us are just born with it.”

She turned to gape at him but he was already gone, the door of the spare room closing behind him. She laughed slightly and shook her head, closing the bathroom door. His confidence was definitely returning in leaps and bounds now. Not that he was all wrong about that sexy thing, she mused to herself. There was something inherently sexy about him: maybe it was a bad boy thing. Shaking her head, she laughed and turned to the mirror and inspected herself before turning on the shower.



An hour later she was ready to go and she skipped down the stairs in her new heels and an almost completely new outfit. She felt good for the first time in a long time and she was determined to have a good time tonight – Angel be damned. Although, she thought wickedly, she guessed he already was. She giggled to herself and went into the living room, giving a little twirl for her mother and Spike.

“’Bout time,” Spike murmured, but she saw him suppressing a smile and she poked her tongue out at him.

“I wanted to look my best.”

“You look lovely, honey,” her mother said.

“Thanks.”

“Not too bad, Slayer.”

“You’re too kind,” she commented sarcastically and he grinned, getting to his feet.

“Right, shall we get this show on the road?”

He held out his arm and with a smile, she laced her arm through his.

“Back before one.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And have a good time.”

“We will,” she replied with a wide smile, guiding Spike towards the door.

“And make sure she behaves herself, Spike.”

“Hey!” she protested as the vampire chuckled and her mother smiled brightly.

“Will do, Joyce.”

“You’re so mean to me,” she grumbled, giving her mother an absentminded wave as they left the house.

“You love it.”

“Humph,” she moaned, but was unable to stop a smile from crossing her face.



As always, the Bronze was packed when they got there and they squeezed through the throng carefully, searching for her friends among the crowd.

“There they are!” she shouted over the music, grabbing Spike’s hand and pulling him behind her as she elbowed her way past several couples making out. Willow and Oz had secured a table and she reached it with a sigh of relief.

“It’s crazy in here!” she called.

“There’s quite a few college people in tonight,” Willow replied, greeting her with a wide smile. Oz gave them both a curt nod and they settled onto two stools opposite the couple.

“Where’s Xander and Queen C?” Buffy asked.

“Bar.”

“Tempting,” she murmured, looking over towards the crowded bar, “But not that tempting.”

“I’ll go,” Spike offered, getting to his feet, “What do you want?”

“Oh! Thanks. Erm, just a soda for me, I guess.”

“Too right,” he teased, smiling, “Or your mum’ll have my guts for garters.”

She laughed and he disappeared into the crowd. She scooted closer to Willow and gave her a hug in greeting.

“How are you doing?” Willow asked, a worried look crossing her face, “You look better.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I haven’t heard anything from Angel in days.”

“You don’t think he’s gone?”

“No. He said he’d come tell me and, well, I don’t think he was lying.”

Thankfully, she was distracted from that thought by the return of Xander and Cordelia and she greeted them both warmly.



Dancing later among the crowd of people, she felt better than ever, moving her body to the beat of the music. She smiled widely at Willow who was dancing with her and let her gaze wander over the crowd. There were quite a few cute guys here and several caught her eye and smiled. It was tempting to find the nearest guy and delete the memory of Angel’s kisses. But she knew deep-down, that she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Her eyes darted to the table they had left and she smiled when she spotted Spike and Oz sat at the table, in companionable silence by the looks of it. She had been surprised by her friends’ seemingly easy acceptance of Spike but it seemed anyone who was good enough to be her friend was good enough for them. She was just glad to see him out, socialising with people that weren’t her and her mother. She feared that, after all he had experienced, days spent cooped up with only her and her mother for company must be ultimately boring for someone who had met hundreds of new, exciting people. He never complained though – but then, how could he with the way her mother doted on him as if he were her own son. She smiled and turned to Willow.

“I’m going to go sit down for a bit. You want me to send Oz over?”

“Sure.”

She pushed her way back to the table and sat down, smiling once again at the two quiet men.

“Willow wants some company,” she remarked with a smile and with his own smile, Oz nodded and slid from his stool, making his way over to his girlfriend.



She shifted closer and nudged Spike with her shoulder.

“How you doing?”

“I’m fine, love. Don’t you worry ‘bout me.”

“You having fun at least?” she asked with a smile, nudging him again.

“Need a few more drinks before it can be fun,” he murmured, looking at his half-empty glass.

She laughed and snatched the glass away from him, holding it up and sniffing it.

“What are you drinking anyway? It smells horrible.”

“Whiskey,” he replied, watching her with an amused smile.

“Can I try some?”

“You trying to get your mum to kill me?” he retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

“Come on, I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

He laughed and shook his head.

“Go on then. Don’t blame me if you don’t like it.”

She regarded the brown liquid for a long moment before raising the glass to her lips and downing what was left. Instantly, she coughed as the liquid seared a path down her throat.

“Err, that’s horrible.”

Spike laughed and took the glass from her, slapping her lightly on the back as she continued to cough.

“Lightweight.”

She made a disgusted sound again, wrinkling up her nose.

“Is all alcohol as nasty as that?”

“It’s just strong,” he explained, “Expensive too. You owe me a drink.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled widely and nodded to the bar.

“Come on then, grumpy.”

He scowled at her but got to his feet and followed her to the bar.



“You know,” she started as they waited at the bar, sending him a coy smile, “If you get me a proper drink, I’ll love you forever.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her suspiciously.

“And what you trying to get drunk for then?” he asked pointedly, his gaze softening into concern, “Doesn’t help, you know.”

“I’m not going to get drunk,” she protested, “I just want to relax and have a good time.”

He was silent, obviously mulling it over and she placed her hand on his arm, giving him her best pleading smile.

“Go on. Please. Just a small one.”

She could see him faltering – who knew Spike was such a softie? – and she turned on the puppy dog eyes, pleading him silently. He finally gave a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Your mum finds out, it’s all your fault, okay?”

She smiled widely, bouncing slightly with excitement, and turned back to the bar.

“Now, what can I have that’s yummy?”

Spike rolled his eyes but smiled down at her affectionately as he finally got the barman’s attention and ordered their drinks.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Yeah, you know what's coming: drunken Buffy. It just had to be done though!

Tipsy


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She felt grown-up, sophisticated, with the secret supply of something-and-coke that Spike had been sending her way. It hadn’t been hard to convince him into buying her another one after the first. She was on her third now and despite a little giddiness, she just felt… happy. She wanted to dance the night away, she wanted to-

“Hi.”

She was snapped out of her daze by the low voice and she looked up quickly, finding herself face-to-face with a guy with dark hair, warm eyes and the cutest smile she had seen all night.

“Hi,” she answered.

“I’m Todd,” he announced, “I haven’t seen you in here before…”

“Buffy,” she supplied with a smile, “I haven’t been in for a while. You from Sunnydale?”

“No. Just staying with my cousin.”

She nodded and smiled warmly as he glanced back towards a group of college guys and then turned to her again.

“So, how about I get you a drink?”

“I’d like that,” she murmured with a coy smile and she followed him to the bar.



Todd, it turned out, was a law student and avid lacrosse player. And he was very cute too, she thought to herself as they danced together later. Gentlemanly, too, which never hurt. They danced close together, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. Todd leant forward and she breathed in the scent of his musky cologne as he bent his mouth to her ear.

“You must be the prettiest girl in here.”

She giggled and he pulled back, giving her a hungry look.

“Why don’t we-“

“There you are!”

She could barely catch up with what was happening: one minute she was dancing with Todd, the next she was being steered away from him at a surprisingly quick pace. She just managed to give him a wave and came to an abrupt halt a few steps later.

“Spike, what are you doing?”

“It’s time you got home.”

“But I was having fun.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Even though she argued with him, and was pouting like a spoilt child, she didn’t stop him when he guided her through the crowds and towards the door.

“Do we have to go home?” she whined.

“Unless you want to be in trouble, yeah.”

She pouted but let him lead her out into the dark street.



“This is where I first met you,” she pointed out cheerfully as he finally released her and shrugged his shirt back into place.

“So it is,” he answered with a smile.

“You thought you were so big and bad.”

“I am big and bad,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Okay, if you say so,” she say in a sing-song voice, grabbing his arm and dragging him into step beside her.

“Slayer, you drunk?”

“Of course not!” she protested somewhat loudly, “I’m just… tipsy. It feels good.”

Just as she spoke, she stumbled and he quickly reached out and grabbed her around the waist, steadying her.

“Okay, Miss Tipsy. Definitely time you were tucked up in bed.”

“Bed is good.”

“You better pray you don’t have a hangover tomorrow.”

“But I’m not drunk!” she protested, hiccupping a moment later.

“Whatever you say, love,” he murmured, smiling warmly as he tightened his grip around her waist and set her in motion again.



They were about halfway home when the dizziness started to set in, but she didn’t let on to Spike, only holding onto him tighter to steady herself. She closed her eyes but that just made it worse so she opened them again.

“Thank you for tonight,” she spoke up, hoping to distract herself.

“Thanks for inviting me, pet.”

“It’s not like I’d leave my best, best… vampire… at home,” she got out, frowning as she struggled to get the words out.

“Thanks, love.”

She smiled widely, head falling back as she looked up at him. Dizziness hit again though and she righted herself.

“I don’t think I should have got you those drinks,” Spike murmured, watching her with amusement.

“Sure you did have to. They were yummy,” she slurred, “It was fun being all grown-up.”

He chuckled lowly and shook his head as they moved on.

“I totally think it made me more sophisticated,” she commented, nodding, “Todd thought so too.”

“Was that Whitebread’s name?” Spike scoffed, “Figures. Yeah, he thought something alright.”

Hardly listening to him, she carried on.

“He was a bit of a meathead, wasn’t he?” she remarked with a giggle.

“Just a bit.”

“Well, it was fun. At least it’s nice to know someone still wants me.”



With that thought, her cheer was gone, replaced with depression.

“Come on, love,” Spike coaxed, “Let’s get you home before your mum sends out a search party.”

She sighed but tightened her grip on him, leaning against him more as they made their way back through town.

“You know, you’re a much better kisser than Angel,” she blurted out after a moment’s silence.

“What?!”

He came to a momentary standstill but she barely noticed it, suddenly frowning.

“Hmm… or maybe I just dreamt that.”

She shrugged, missing the look he gave her as he caught her around the waist again.

“I’m sure you are though,” she said firmly, “Angel’s just a… a…”

“Ponce?”

“Yeah, he’s totally a ponce…. What’s a ponce?”

He laughed and shook his head, finally conducting her up the front steps of her house and guiding her through the front door. She was already heading for the stairs on her own accord but he caught her, guiding her instead into the kitchen. He forced her to sit and she struggled to focus bleary eyes on him.



“Here,” he said, holding a glass of water out to her a moment later.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Probably not… but this might help you feel better in the morning.”

She frowned but when he pushed the glass into her hand, she took it and took a few small sips.

“Drink it all,” he ordered softly and she scrunched her nose up at him before downing the rest in one long gulp. She wiped her mouth and held the glass out to him pointedly as he smiled.

“Didn’t mean all in one go, but suit yourself.”

“Can I go to bed now?”

“Come on then,” he said, helping her to her feet and following her, turning off the lights behind him. She climbed the stairs slowly – her head spinning – and went into her bedroom, her eyes glad for the darkness. She sat down on her bed and slipped her jacket off tiredly before bending to undo the straps of her heels. She struggled with them for several minutes before Spike came and knelt beside her, undoing them in quick movements.

“Thanks,” she whispered with a wry smile, righting herself – and being overcome with a dizziness that had her reaching out for the nearest thing to hold onto: him. She gripped his arm tightly and she saw him frown with concern.

“You alright, love?”

“Just a bit dizzy,” she explained, holding one hand to her head.

“Okay, come on, lie down,” he coaxed softly, guiding her to lie out on the bed as he sat on the edge.



“Better?” he asked quietly and just for a moment, she saw a flash of kisses behind her eyes.

“Hmm? Yeah, a little bit.”

“You gonna be able to sleep okay?” he queried, one hand brushing her hair back from her face.

“Hopefully.”

He smiled and leant forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Night, love.”

She caught him just before he pulled back, wrapping both arms around him and burying her head against his shoulder. After a few seconds, she felt him wrap one arm around her hesitantly and she squeezed him tightly, breathing in his unique scent.

“You smell good,” she murmured, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He chuckled and pulled back, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Night, Buffy.”

“Night, Spike,” she answered sleepily, eyes already fluttering shut.

He crept silently out of her room, shutting the door behind him and she closed her eyes with a smile, sleep beckoning to her.

Myth


A/N: Just got another two nominations!! Best Dark and Best WIP at Fang Fetish, Round 9. Yay!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apart from a slight headache the next morning, she felt surprisingly good after her night out. Well, except for the slight gap in her memory: she remembered leaving the club with Spike – and nothing after that. It was slightly worrying but the thing was, she trusted Spike and was pretty certain he had got her home safe with no incidents. She also trusted him not to share her slight indulgence in the world of alcohol with her mother.

It was strange really, just how much she trusted this vampire. But she did, no question about that. Come to think of it, she had even trusted him before the soul. After all, she had agreed to that deal with him, knowing that he would hold up his end, knowing that – despite the outward show – he was an honourable man. Which was not something she often thought when it came to vampires… but as she was quickly coming to learn, Spike was no normal vampire.

She smiled and rolled out of bed, getting ready for another day. It was going to be another day of lounging around, nothing to do but relax and push all thoughts of a certain dark-haired vampire from her mind. And maybe some bonding with the Scoobies later on – it had been so long since she had spent any decent amount of time with them. She missed them – she even missed Giles moaning at her for her sometimes frivolous take on her duty.



She whiled away the day with Spike and as the sun set they headed for Giles’ house. She had thought to go earlier, but some urge made her delay her departure so the vampire could come with her. After all, she had a feeling being cooped up all day had a similar effect on him as it did on her: made her restless and edgy. Her suspicions were confirmed when he jumped at the chance to accompany her and was at the door in seconds, ready to leave. She laughed as she caught up to him and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” he asked.

“You. All eager to be out of the house. Like a puppy or something.”

“Thanks ever so,” he murmured sarcastically, but she saw the hint of a smile around his lips as he fell into step beside her. She smiled widely and turned back to the path with a slight skip in her step.

“So, did you enjoy yourself last night?” Spike asked after a few moments’ silence.

There was something strange about the way he asked her – and the slight smirk he was trying to hide – but she assumed it was just because he was making fun of her flirting with that college guy.

“Yeah. It was great,” she replied, “It was just really nice to get out of the house and, you know, forget about things for a night.”

He smiled and nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

“What about you?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“Well… it was an entertaining night,” he answered somewhat mysteriously, smiling widely.

She frowned but he said nothing and they fell into a comfortable silence.



As they reached Giles’ she glanced at the vampire beside her, searching for any hint of uneasiness.

“Are you okay about this?” she asked quickly, as they walked through the courtyard.

“About what?”

“You know, inquisition part two.”

He smiled uncertainly as she knocked on the door.

“Just have to be a big brave boy,” he murmured only seconds before the door opened and she suppressed a giggle as Giles gave her a strange look.

“Good evening,” he greeted both of them, ushering them into the house.

She flashed Spike a wide smile and with his own slightly less certain one, they entered the house together. She took up the last seat on the couch and Spike settled on the arm next to her, a vision of calm – unless you looked closely and saw his fingers twitching. She smiled and turned to her friends.

“So, did everyone have fun last night?”

“One of the best Bronze nights of this year,” Xander exclaimed and Willow nodded in agreement.

“Where did you go to though, Buffy? You just disappeared.”

She glanced at Spike and bit her lip.

“I wasn’t feeling very well so we left early.”

She saw him struggling to suppress a smile and she elbowed him discreetly in the leg.

“I hope you’re feeling better today?” Giles asked in a way that seemed suspicious – to her at least.

“I had a bit of a headache earlier, but now I’m fine.”

She heard Spike bite back a snort and she elbowed him again, flashing him a glare.



They soon settled down to the usual Scooby banter and she was glad to see that, even though he didn’t participate greatly, Spike wasn’t completely silent by her side. And as far as she could tell, the Scoobies seemed to accept his presence with no hesitation. She did notice Xander watching him warily whenever he moved, but then Xander had always been overly paranoid when it came to vampires, even – or maybe especially - vampires with a soul.

Spike himself grew more relaxed as the evening progressed and she even dared to leave him as she and Willow went to get a drink from the kitchen. As soon as they were in the kitchen, Willow collared her.

“You were drunk last night!” she whispered loudly.

“Shh!” she returned, glancing nervously into the living room, “I wasn’t drunk! I was just a bit tipsy.”

“Is that why you had to go home?”

“Well, Spike kinda dragged me out actually. I think he was worried ‘coz I was talking to that college guy.”

Willow giggled girlishly.

“He was cute.”

“He was alright,” she replied with a shrug, “He’s kinda hazy in my memory.”

They both giggled and she glanced back at the living room, noticing that the males seemed to be silent.

“We should probably go lighten up the party,” she said to Willow and they left the kitchen.



“… from before, I mean.”

Giles was just finishing saying something as they came out and when Buffy saw Spike stiffen, she made her way slowly to his side.

“Well, ‘course I’m unchanged,” Spike replied hesitantly, eyes flashing to hers, “I got a soul, not a personality transplant.”

Ahh, she thought, Giles had taken his chance in her absence to start the interrogation. Spike seemed uncomfortable, but refused to back down and she smiled softly, sitting down on a chair by his side.

“And you don’t feel it has had any effect on your persona?”

“Why would it?” Spike countered.

“Well, from what we know…” Giles explained, glancing at her, “Well, surely the soul… replaces the demon?”

Spike surprised them all by laughing then and she knew she wasn’t the only one hanging on his answer.

“That what he told you?” he asked when he had calmed down, just catching her eyes before looking away, “That they’re separate? Probably just like all this stuff about the demon and the human being separate…”

“You mean to suggest that a person, when turned, is still the same? You honestly expect us to believe that you are the same person you were before you were a vampire?” Giles asked – not cruelly, merely curiously.

“Well, of course not. But you can’t tell me you’re the same as you were ten, twenty years ago.”

“Certainly not.”

“Well, multiple it by about six times, and you’ll see what I’m saying.”



Giles was silent for a moment, obviously considering his next words, but then he spoke up.

“But that still suggests that you don’t think being a vampire changes someone… and that having your soul returned doesn’t change you either.”

“Of course it changes you, but…” Spike trailed off and then continued, “Look, I’m still figuring it out myself but… the soul doesn’t replace anything… It adds to what’s already there. It’s all parts of a whole, if you see what I mean?”

Giles nodded but she was still partly confused. Spike’s gaze slid to hers than and she sat up a bit straighter, her gaze holding his.

“It would be convenient, wouldn’t it?” he continued in a low voice, “If you could separate the two parts of yourself? If you could blame all your worst crimes on that other part of yourself?”

He paused for a moment, eyes flicking to the others then back to hers.

“Can’t say it’s not tempting. To lay all the blame on Spike. But he’s not a different person… he’s me. It’s all me.”

His eyes moved away from hers but the message had gotten through loud and clear, making her uneasy.

“Might be a bit more William in me than there has been of late… but I’m still Spike. Still William the Bloody. Can’t just wipe my hands of that.”

“Well, of course not,” Giles said quietly, watching the vampire intently, “But you have a chance to change yourself now… to make amends.”

“Remake myself into something I’m not,” Spike added with a weary smile.

Buffy saw Willow glance at her before turning to Spike and speaking up.

“Angel did it.”



She hated the awkward silence his name provoked and she raised her chin, refusing to show weakness. She saw Spike turn to her slightly, a brief flash of concern crossing his face, but she nodded jerkily and he turned back with his reply.

“Angel’s a myth,” he said quietly, “He doesn’t exist. He’s just… Liam… but with a bit more sense. Still got Liam’s failings… very human failings.”

He threw a quick glance at her and continued.

“Being a vampire doesn’t change that, neither does having a soul.”

And what about you, Spike?” Giles asked, bright eyes watching the vampire, “Are you a myth too?”

Spike was silent for a moment and she saw him tense, before he forced himself to relax and answered Giles’ question, a slight smirk crossing his face.

“Of course. You don’t think I crawled out of my grave already like this?” he joked, “Had to make a name for myself, didn’t I?”

He paused briefly and then continued more seriously.

“But yeah, deep down I’m just William… with the balls I never had before,” he murmured with a wry smile.

There was silence as everyone seemed to be absorbing his words – she more than any, considering what this meant to everything she thought she knew. Giles broke the silence, seemingly unfinished with his questions.

“But do you feel you are becoming accustomed to the soul?”

“Haven’t been killing if that’s what you’re asking,” Spike answered somewhat defensively, his shoulders tensing, “Slayer can vouch for me.”

“And do you never get the urge to kill?” Giles asked.

“Do you never?” Spike retorted and Giles smiled slightly.

“Fair point.”



Both Brits suddenly seemed to relax and she assumed Giles’ interrogation was over. He seemed pleased with the results anyway, as far as she could tell. Polishing his glasses, he turned his attention back to Spike and smiled.

“So, how are you enjoying the Summers’ hospitality?”

“No complaints here,” Spike replied honestly, turning to her with a smile, “Surrounded by good people.”

She smiled back, warmed by his words.

“But I assume when you feel up to it, you will find somewhere of your own?”

“Well, hadn’t really thought about it much… but yeah, I guess so.”

Giles nodded but she frowned, the idea an unwelcome one – one that she hadn’t even considered yet.



It wasn’t until they had left Giles’ that she brought it up though. They were wandering home slowly, both quiet, lost in thought. They were headed for the nearest grocery store, Spike having claimed to be in desperate need of ‘smokes’ the minute they left Giles’ house. Just before they reached the store, she took a deep breath and spoke up.

“You’re not really going to leave, are you?” she exclaimed, surprising the vampire out of his own thoughts.

“Well, like I said, it’s not something I’ve thought about yet.”

He turned to her and smiled softly.

“And anyway, I’m enjoying the Summers’ hospitality far too much at the moment.”

She smiled back hesitantly as he continued.

“But I guess… I can’t keep imposing on you and your mum forever.”

“There is no imposing!” she protested quickly, “You know you’re welcome. My mom loves having you around, you know that.”

“And you, Slayer?”

The way he was looking at her and the way he asked stilled her for a moment, sending a jolt straight through her.

“I…”

Suddenly movement to the right caught her eye and she quickly turned, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw Angel standing just a few paces away, dark eyes fixed on her.

Goodbye


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She felt her heart leap as her eyes met those of her one-time lover – as it always seemed to do – but at the same time, she couldn’t help remembering Spike’s recent words. Angel took a step forward and she looked up at him, her expression twisted with a mixture of panic and heartbreak. She had dreaded this moment for days and now it was finally here. Her voice got stuck in her throat as she froze helplessly, staring up at him with wide eyes. She felt a hand at her elbow and she forced her eyes away from the one vampire to the other.

“I’m just going to get some smokes,” Spike said quietly, nodding towards the shop, “You need me, just holler.”

She nodded jerkily and he released her, worried eyes holding hers, before he turned and made his way across the street. She watched him until he entered the shop and then forced her eyes back to Angel, a lump in her throat.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she whispered painfully, “You’re leaving.”

Any anger she had been harbouring over the last week or so disappeared in an instant with the knowledge that this might be the last time she saw him. His next words, then, surprised her.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I know I should but I… I just don’t know if I can, Buffy. Every time I think… I think of you and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you. I love you.”

She was silent, stunned by his unexpected words. But then, Spike’s words came back to her once more and she blurted out an answer.

“Do you?”

“Buffy?”

“Do you love me? I mean, really?”

“Of course I do. You know I do.”

She was silent, eyes turned downwards but he caught her chin, drawing her gaze to his.

“You do know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what I know anymore,” she whispered sadly, “But maybe… maybe we were never right for each other.”



She saw the shock in his expression but continued, needing to express these feelings, these doubts that had plagued her for so long.

“Maybe the people we fell in love with… well, maybe that’s not who we really are. Maybe it’s all just a… a myth,” she finished quietly.

“Buffy, you were my reason for going on.”

“I get that,” she answered quietly, “And you… you were special for me too. But I… maybe we just weren’t meant to be together.”

He was silent and she bit her lip to hold back her tears.

“You said I needed someone real. Maybe I do. But maybe you do too,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm, “And I… I do care about you, Angel. And I want you to be happy…”

She trailed off, meeting his dark, sad eyes with hers.

“But maybe I’m not the person you can have that with.”

He looked at her for a long time and then, finally, nodded.

“I know you’re right but I… I can’t walk away, Buffy.”

“Then I will,” she whispered.

She reached up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes tightly as his hands just rested on her waist. She pulled back and cupped his cheek in her hand.

“Goodbye, Angel,” she choked out, forcing herself away.

She took one long, last look at him and then moved away, forcing herself forward, every shaky step away from him increasing the pain in her chest.

Spike was waiting for her on the other side of the street and as soon as he realised she wasn’t stopping, he fell into step beside her.

“I have to keep- I can’t stop now,” she whispered.

She saw him glance back over his shoulder but she would not copy him… could not. She had to make this break with the past, this break with Angel. It was time.



She managed to hold herself together for the short walk back to her house but almost as soon as she got through the door, she faltered and was caught by her arms. Spike guided her silently through to the living room and made her sit down, perching on the table opposite her and taking her trembling hands in his. She forced her watery gaze to his, fighting against the tears now.

“It’s really over,” she whispered.

She had hoped he might distract her but she saw nothing but acute sympathy in his eyes and it broke what little restraint she had left: she burst into tears, hunched in on herself, even as he continued to hold her hands tightly in his, his thumbs rubbing the backs of her hands gently.

“Buffy?!”

Her mother had crept downstairs without her notice and now hovered at the living room door. She threw her mother a tearful look but then she sagged again, the pain ripping through her.

“I think we could all do with some cocoa,” Spike suggested quietly and she heard her mother disappear into the kitchen.

And somehow, she lost it altogether then. She sagged forward, head buried against her knees, sobbing. She felt the softest touch against her hair but it barely registered through her pain.



She felt the cushions dip beside her and then she was enveloped in a familiar embrace, breathing in the scent of smoke and Spike. He said nothing but held her tightly as she sagged against him, one hand clutching at his shirt as she cried into his shoulder.

Moments later, she felt a presence on her other side and a gentle hand reached out to brush her hair to one side.

“Shh, honey. It’s alright,” her mother murmured softly, one hand taking her free hand and holding it tightly.

Her tears did not cease for long minutes though and when they finally did, she felt drained. She forced herself to sit up, red eyes moving from the vampire on one side to her mother on the other. Her mother brushed a hand over her cheek, her eyes saddened.

“My beautiful girl.”

She sniffed, wiping her sore eyes.

“He’s really leaving, Mom.”

“Oh, honey.”

Her mother drew her into her embrace then and she hugged her back tightly. Her mother pressed a kiss to her head, stroking one hand over her back.

“It’s going to be okay, Buffy,” she whispered, “I promise you. It may not seem like it now… but you’re going to be okay. You’re going to move on and you’re going to find someone so much better for you. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

She sniffed pitifully, burying her head against her mother.

“I loved him.”

“I know, honey.”



It was only later that she noticed her instinctive use of the past tense. But it was also later that her actions became clear to her and she could not regret what she had done, despite the pain it had caused her. As she curled up in her bed, alone, she saw Angel’s face before her eyes, as he had been the first time she had met him… and she forced it aside, closing her eyes and praying for sleep.

Friendship


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before her sleep was interrupted by bad dreams and she jolted awake, sitting up with a sigh. She pulled on a large jumper and slipped out into the dark hallway, tiptoeing silently down the stairs. The house was enveloped in darkness and she held her hand out, feeling her way round the stairs and towards the kitchen.

“Slayer?”

She jumped out of her skin, whirling round quickly, trying to make out Spike’s form in the darkness.

“Spike?!” she got out, her heart pounding, “Is that you? Where are you?”

A moment later, the lights in the living room came on and she shielded her eyes from the light for a moment before moving her hand, squinting. Her eyes finally met Spike’s where he sat on the couch and she frowned.

“Are you sitting around in the dark for any particular reason?”

“Just thinking,” he murmured, eyes averted shyly, almost as if he were embarrassed.

She smiled softly and hugged the jumper around her tightly as she moved into the living room. He looked up again and worried eyes flicked over hers.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I had a bad dream,” she explained, sliding onto the couch next to him and pulling her legs up to her chest. She frowned as she remembered the dream vividly – she had been kissing Angel and he had turned to dust. She shivered and hugged herself a little tighter, giving him a weak smile.



They fell silent for a pause and she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed much less cheerful than usual and she wondered what was bothering him.

“Are you okay?”

His head snapped up in surprise and then his expression softened.

“I’m okay, love. I’m not the one who…” Got dumped.

“I’m so lucky,” she got out bitterly, sighing.

He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Anything I can do?” he asked softly.

“I wish there was,” she answered sadly, “But I guess I just have to… accept it. Try to… move on.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“I could really do with a drink right about now.”

His grip tightened on her shoulder, drawing her gaze to his.

“It doesn’t help, trust me. Makes you feel worse, if anything.”

It was obvious he spoke from experience and she frowned, only just remembering that he too had been left – weeks ago now, after they had fought off Drusilla together. She felt a wave of guilt, hating that she hadn’t even asked him how he was doing – too caught up in her own problems. But her failed attempt at a relationship with Angel was nothing compared to the hundred years he had spent with Drusilla. They had been inseparable, he doing everything he could for her: even coming to Sunnydale and ending up in a wheelchair for her, to make her better.



She covered his hand with hers, drawing his eyes to hers.

“Do you miss her?”

He didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about and she saw the pain flash through his expression.

“Sometimes,” he said quietly, eyes moving from hers and focussing on a spot in the middle of the coffee table, “Wake up alone and panic that she’s not there… then I remember.”

She had had no idea it had been so hard for him and she hated herself for her selfishness.

“I’m so sorry.”

His gaze flew to hers and he frowned in confusion.

“Sorry for what?”

“I never… I mean, you’ve been so good about this Angel thing and I never even asked you about…”

“It’s fine,” he answered honestly, moving his hand to wrap around hers, “Bigger things to worry about and all that. This wouldn’t be the first time Dru up and left when I needed her.”

He frowned again and she squeezed his hand in hers. He gave her a wry smile and bowed his head.

“A part of me still loves her… I mean, she was my everything.”

He paused and glanced at her before continuing.

“But I couldn’t… I couldn’t be with her now. The things she does… I couldn’t sit back and let her, but I don’t know if I could stop her either.”

He flashed her another wry smile and sank his head back against the couch.

“Love’s a bitch.”



She smiled sadly, watching him absently as he closed his eyes, head resting against the cushions. She shifted over and laid her head on his shoulder, startling him. He sat up a bit straighter and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her against him as she looped one arm around him.

“You’ll get through this, love,” he murmured, his breath stirring her hair.

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes as she made herself more comfortable. A comfortable silence descended over them for long minutes and she thought he might be a sleep for a moment, until he shifted his legs, crossing them at the ankle.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“That stuff you said… about Angel…”

“What about it, love?” he asked quietly.

“I mean… I know you’re right but I just… I don’t know,” she sighed, giving up.

“I was just trying to explain how I see the soul.”

“I know. I just… I was so stupid,” she suddenly blurted out, “I believed him. Believed that Angelus and Angel were two separate people. I was such an idiot!”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly, giving her a little shake, “He hid it because… well, I don’t pretend to know all the inner workings of his little mind but I assume it was to make things easier with you.”

“How does lying make things easier?”

“Well, do you think you’d have fallen for him so hard if you thought he was capable of the things Angelus did? Do you think you’d have let yourself get so close… to a killer?”

She was silent for a moment, considering this.

“I… I honestly don’t know,” she whispered.

After another long pause, she continued.

“I guess I just… I refused to see it. I didn’t want to see him as a killer.”

“And there’s nothing wrong in that. He probably didn’t want you to see him as a killer either… Not sure any man does.”

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze.

“You’re not a killer, Spike,” she whispered, wanting to comfort him, take away that shadow in his eyes, “Not anymore.”

He sighed and sank his head back again, squeezing her against him.

“Not that easy though, is it?”



They passed another few minutes in silence before she spoke up.

“Spike, I… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Nonsense,” he replied dismissively, “Didn’t do anything.”

“But you did,” she protested, sitting up straight and meeting his eyes, “You’ve been there all through this craziness.”

“Even my craziness,” he added with a slight smile.

She couldn’t help but smile but she quickly turned serious again.

“I mean it. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“S’alright, Slayer. Really. You don’t need to thank me. Not after what you did for me.”

She smiled softly and nodded.

“Still. Thank you.”

He looked uncomfortable – as he so often did with praise or even positive words of any kind – and she smiled affectionately. Overcome with the impulse to show how grateful she was, she leant forward and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss. When she pulled back, he was watching her with wide, surprised eyes and she smiled hesitantly, cheeks blushing bright red.

“Thank you,” she repeated quietly and he swallowed hard, nodding in answer.



There was a brief awkward silence but then she broke it, meeting his eyes uncertainly.

“I guess you’re going to bed soon?”

“Not quite yet,” he admitted, “Not really tired.”

She nodded and glanced at him hesitantly.

“I might stay with you… if you don’t mind?”

“’Course not,” he answered lowly.

She smiled slightly and moved back to her former position, resting her head against his shoulder. He smoothed a hand over her hair and then rested his cheek against her head.

“It’s going to work out okay, isn’t it, Spike?” she whispered, curling up into a ball.

“’Course it is, sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair.

The term of endearment sent warmth curling through her and she smiled, letting her eyes fall closed.

“Spike?” she whispered after a moment’s silence.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad we’re friends.”

He paused for a moment and then pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Me too, love.”

She smiled and settled against him, letting out a long, deep breath as she relaxed.

Bonding


A/N: So I finished my last EVER university exam today and to celebrate, I bring you another chapter AND a beautiful banner, courtesy of the wonderful Dawnofme.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke with a yawn and her eyes fluttered open slowly, her vision blocked with black material. The tiniest movement soon revealed it to be nothing more than Spike’s T-shirt though and she settled down for a few more moments of comfortable dozing without even really thinking about it. She returned her head to its position against his chest and his arm came round her again in his sleep.

After a few seconds though, a horrible smell started to seep through her senses, much as she tried to scrunch up her nose and ignore it. It smelled like… burning. In a flash, she was thrown aside as Spike cried out in pain, rolling off the couch and onto the floor, cradling his smoking arm.

“Arghh! Bloody hell!”

“Oh God, are you okay?”

He only just seemed to notice her and he forced his eyes to hers, grimacing in pain.

“M’okay.”

She slid to the floor beside him, kneeling and taking his injured arm gently in her hands.

“Would ice help?”

“Too cold,” he explained, teeth gritted with the pain, “Maybe just some cool cloth.”

She jumped to her feet and rushed out of the room, almost colliding with her mother.

“What’s going on?” Joyce asked worriedly, hurrying into the living room, “Spike? Are you okay?”

He looked up at her and forced a pained smile.

“Just a little sunburn,” he got out and her mother gasped.

“Buffy, get some cloths. Run them under-“

“Already going, Mom.”



She rushed back into the living room with the cloths and knelt down on the floor in front of Spike. He was back on the couch now, her mother having closed the curtains and blocking out the sun’s dangerous rays.

“What happened?” her mother asked worriedly, supervising as Buffy gently laid the cloth over his arm, wincing when he hissed in pain.

“Fell asleep down here,” he explained, his face contorted with pain.

“We were, uhh, talking,” Buffy added when she saw her mother’s eyes flash to her pyjamas.

Her mother sent her a strange look but then turned back to the vampire.

“Is it helping?”

“A little, yeah. Thanks.”

He shook his head and glanced behind him at the curtained window.

“Should have learnt better by now,” he commented with a wry smile.

“It was my fault,” Buffy spoke up, “I made you stay down here.”

“Nonsense,” he protested, “Stayed because I wanted to.”

They both seemed to remember her mother at the same moment and both sent her an embarrassed look.

“Didn’t want you to be alone,” Spike added, “After the night you had.”

“I know,” she added, avoiding her mother’s gaze as she replaced the cloth for a new one.
She didn’t know why they were making excuses for her mother but it just seemed… inappropriate somehow, the way they had been sleeping together. Next to each other, she corrected in her mind.



After the burns seemed to have lessened in pain, she went through to the kitchen with her mother to prepare some breakfast.

“How are you today, Buffy?” her mother asked quietly, going about preparing the food.

“I’m okay,” she answered after a moment’s hesitation, “I mean, yeah, I feel like my heart’s been ripped out and stomped on… but it’s not as bad as it was last night.”

Her mother smiled sympathetically and reached out to brush a hand over her hair.

“It’ll get easier.”

“I really hope so.”

Her mother smiled again and turned back to the breakfast.

“Spike has been wonderful all through this,” Joyce commented.

“I know,” she agreed, “I don’t know how I’m ever going to make it up to him. He seems to think we’re even now because I looked after him before… but somehow I think he had a harder job to do.”

She smiled wryly and her mother laughed.

“He’s just a kind-hearted soul,” her mother remarked, “I don’t think he likes seeing anyone in pain.”

“Well, right now he’s the one in pain,” Buffy said softly, “I’m going to go check on him.”

“Breakfast will be ready in about five minutes.”

“Great. Oh, can you do Spike’s blood as well?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Mom.”



Luckily, Spike’s burns didn’t seem all too bad and were already starting to heal up later that morning. Just to be safe though, he stayed further away from the windows than usual, not wanting to risk any additional burning. When he went for a nap later that afternoon, she decided to do the same, instead of sitting around by herself until her mother came home from work.

As soon as she lay down on the bed though, she realised she wasn’t that tired and so she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering how her life had got to this point. She could still remember her first meeting with Angel with perfect clarity, could remember their first kiss, the first time they – everything they had shared. And now, just like that, he wasn’t going to be part of her life anymore. He was gone – or as good as anyway.

She couldn’t sit around thinking about this or she was going to go mad and she threw herself off her bed, grabbing a magazine from her dresser and trying to distract herself. After a few minutes, it was obvious it wasn’t working and with a sigh, she threw the magazine down on her bed, running a hand over her face. She well remembered a time when her life had been easy: before she had been the Slayer, when the biggest worry she had was co-ordinating her accessories. Her life seemed to have been a lot less difficult before she knew vampires existed. But then, less interesting too, she couldn’t help but think.



She was drawn out of her thoughts by a knock at her door and she sat up straighter, a smile crossing her face as she sensed Spike on the other side.

“Hey! Come in,” she called out and sure enough, the vampire opened the door, smiling softly as he came in. He was still obviously sleepy and bed-tousled and she smiled.

“What’s up?”

“Actually, I’ve come to ask you a favour.”

“Oh?”

“Wouldn’t lend us a hand, would you?” he asked shyly, producing a small box from behind his back. It took her a few seconds to recognise what it was but when she did, she laughed: it was hair dye.

“I wondered how long you were going to leave it,” she commented.

“Slipped my mind,” he murmured awkwardly, shrugging as he ran one hand through his hair, “Don’t even want to know how bad it looks.”

“You’d be surprised,” she remarked with a smile, “Tips like that are all the rage right now.”

He raised an eyebrow and she laughed, pushing him out into the corridor and following him into the bathroom. She took the box of dye from him and skimmed over the instructions, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he stripped off his T-shirt and draped it over the edge of the bath. She turned to him, trying her hardest not to blush, and found him running a hand through his hair thoughtfully.

“What?” she asked, drawing his gaze to hers.

“S’getting long. Hasn’t been this long in years.”

“It’s fine, trust me,” she reassured him with a smile, “Now, let’s get you blonde again.”



Twenty-five minutes later, she was rinsing his hair over the bath, trying not to blush too much at the proximity of his bare chest. It’s not like she’d never seen a guy without a top before. He righted himself moments later and she smiled – he was back to his blonde self again. And knowing how good she always felt after the tiniest makeover, she knew his confidence would peak with the return to his normal look. He stood up and smoothed his hair back, flashing her a wide smile that confirmed her hunch.

“Looks good,” she commented and he gave her a smirk.

“Cheers.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile at seeing him so, well, himself. He tugged on his shirt again and smoothed back his hair again. He looked so like his old self now, minus of course the jacket. She smiled, watching him as he fiddled with his hair, stealing styling products aplenty in an attempt to tame his unruly curls.

“I don’t know why you bother,” she said, “The curls look good.”

He turned to her and actually growled, obviously not pleased with the idea.

“Make me look like a ponce.”

“If I knew what one of those was… I’d probably disagree,” she answered with a wide smile. She pushed herself to her feet and moved to stand in front of him.

“Let me.”

She ran her fingers through the front of his hair, smiling when he frowned at her.

“Just trust me, ‘kay?”

After a few moments of grooming, she pulled back and smiled proudly.

“There. Brilliant.”



He smiled and raised a hesitant hand to his hair.

“Have to take your word for it,” he murmured, nodding behind her, “Not like I can check.”

She glanced behind her, seeing only herself in the mirror, even though she could feel him so close to her. She found herself staring at the place where he should be, feeling his eyes on her.

“Do you ever hate not knowing what you look like?” she asked quietly.

“Me mum always used to say I was a handsome fellow. That’s good enough for me.”

She laughed and turned back to him.

“Did she ever tell you you aren’t at all modest?” she teased.

“Modesty is for lesser men,” he replied with a smirk, before turning serious, “Anyway, I had enough modesty for several men back then.”

“And you say you haven’t changed,” she remarked, shaking her head with a soft smile.

“Only for the good, of course,” he said, smirking once more.

She shook her head and laughed as they left the bathroom together.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “Let’s go make dinner for your mum.”

“You know, I think she’s going to start loving you more than she loves me,” she protested with a pout and he laughed, tugging on her hand and guiding her down the stairs.

“What can I say?” he retorted, “I’m just lovable.”

Façade




[banner by the lovely Dawnofme]

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She was more than glad to be out on patrol that night, everything in her rebelling against being inside for so long – especially when all she could do when she was still was think about what had happened. So yes, patrol was a welcome distraction from the pain that was still almost as strong as it had been last night. Spike had done his best to distract her for most of the afternoon, but there were times when only fresh air and maybe a spot of violence could help her battle her inner demons. Not normal probably, but being the Slayer made this kind of thing seem natural to her.

So, after dinner with her mother – who had smiled widely at the sight of Spike’s return to blonde – they set out for Sunnydale’s graveyards. As they were walking along the darkening streets, Spike suddenly paused at a turn in the road and she came to a stop beside him, watching him in confusion. He turned to her with a slight smile and nodded to the right.

“Mind if we make a quick stop-off?”

“What for?” she asked, even as she started to follow him.

It took a few moments for her to realise where she was but when she did, she came to a halt. They were on Crawford Street and she hadn’t even noticed. And sure enough, the mansion loomed in the darkness just up ahead of them.

“Spike,” she got out shakily and he stopped, turning back to her, “I- I can’t.”

He met her eyes with a concerned look and then nodded.

“I know. S’alright. Just got something I need to get.”

He took a step toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You wait here, alright? I’ll be back in a tic.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her chest tight with emotion as she slumped against a nearby wall, watching him as he jogged away along the street.



He appeared seemingly moments later – although it must have been at least a few minutes – and stopped in front of her. She looked down at his hands and her eyes went wide with surprise when she saw the bundle of black leather he was carrying.

“Spike… your coat…” she whispered, reaching out to run a delicate hand over it before looking up at him with a slight frown.

“It was time,” he said simply, unfolding the coat and slipping it on.

He stood for a moment, shrugging the jacket into place, obviously re-learning the feel of it. And then, he turned to her and gave her that oh-so-familiar smirk and with a jolt of surprised happiness, she realised that Spike was back. With the hair and the jacket, he was himself again. He had never looked so at ease before now.

They fell into step together and headed back along the street and she couldn’t help but notice he had regained some of his previous swagger. Yep, Spike was definitely back. She wondered why now, but when she thought back on his words just yesterday about the soul, she thought she knew. Like he had said, the soul was all part of him, just like William was and just like Spike was. And Spike was the part of him he knew, the part he felt most comfortable with – she recognised that. After all, from all she had gleaned from hints and occasional slips, William had been in his eyes a lesser man, a weak man.

But Spike was none of that and so he embraced this side of himself. He enjoyed it too – she could see it in the light in his eyes, in the cocky smirk. It was a barrier too, a façade to protect him, to protect that vulnerable man of whom she had caught no small number of glimpses. A vulnerable man that was not Spike, not William, but a combination of both.



He looked deadly again, back in his traditional garb and that probably helped his confidence as well. At least, he seemed to enjoy it when a fledgling took one look at him and fled. She took chase but before she could reach it, Spike was tackling him to the ground. And for the first time, she got a chance to see Spike in action, without having to worry about her own skin in the process. He was a graceful, deadly fighter, pulling out all the stops when he knew victory was within his grasp. Watching him now, she wondered how she had ever escaped death at his hands.

In seconds, the fledge was dust and he was wiping his hands and shrugging back into his jacket. He turned to her and gave her a triumphant smirk and she smiled.

“You enjoyed that far too much,” she commented, moving to his side.

“Can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it too, Slayer,” he drawled, “It’s what we do.”

“Except you’ve changed sides now,” she replied, “Which gives us even more ante.”

“And who said I changed sides?” he answered lowly, up against her in a flash, pinning her arms, his breath brushing her neck. After only a few seconds though, he released her and chuckled.

“Who am I kidding? Haven’t got that in me anymore.”

She laughed – somewhat nervously – and turned back to him, a genuine smile crossing her face when she saw the troubled look that thought gave him.

“Come on, Big Bad, plenty more baddies for you to kill to make you feel better.”

He laughed and they set off once again.



As they moved into the next graveyard, a scream instantly alerted them to danger and they raced further inside, headed for the sound. And with every pace, Spike was with her, matching her speed easily. They drew to a halt only metres away from a group of three demons who had cornered a young girl against a crypt and were closing in on her.

“Hey, Spike, looks like a party,” she quipped.

“And we weren’t invited. Now that’s a tad rude, in my book,” he answered, sizing up the three demons.

“Guess we’ll have to have our own party,” she commented with a shrug, instantly leaping forward and knocking one demon down.

The others, distracted from the girl, turned towards them now, growling. Spike instantly vaulted over them and shouted at the girl to run, turning on the nearest demon. This time, she had no opportunity to watch him fight, too caught up in defeating her own opponent.

“Go!” she heard him shout but quickly had to duck a punch from one of the demons. She could see Spike just on the periphery of her vision, just enough to know he was fine, and she turned back to her own demon. After a few carefully placed kicks, the demon was on the floor and with one swift motion, she knelt and twisted its neck, killing it. She rose to her feet again and smiled, dusting her hands.

“I needed that,” she said to herself.

Turning, she made her way over to where Spike stood, wiping her hands on her jacket.




“That was fun. I really-“

She came to a halt at his side, frowning as she looked between him and the girl on the ground. One more glance at him and she turned to him, worried by that tortured look in his eyes – something she hadn’t seen for days now.

“Spike?” she whispered softly, just touching his arm.

“One of the demons came after her…” he murmured, his voice eerily devoid of emotion, his eyes not moving from the girl’s face, “I pushed her out of the way and she fell… and hit her head.”

She took another look at the girl and moved towards her, crouching down beside her and pressing her fingers to her pulse. She gave a sigh of relief as she felt the low thud under her fingers.

“Spike,” she whispered, turning to face him, “She’s alive. She’s just unconscious.”

He wasn’t listening to her though, she could see.

“I… hurt the girl… I didn’t mean to…”

She jumped to her feet, horrified to see him in such pain, not having known he was so close to breaking.

“Spike,” she repeated firmly, standing in front of him, trying to draw his attention to her. He wouldn’t take his wide eyes off the girl though and she reached up and grabbed his face, forcing his pained eyes to hers.

“Spike, look at me. Listen to me. She’s alive. You saved her,” she said slowly, clearly, pleading him with her eyes to hear her and understand.

He shook his head, eyes drifting back to the girl but she shook him.

“Spike. Please. She’s fine.”



She wasn’t sure what it was going to take to get through to him, but was suddenly drawn from him when the girl let out a moan. She turned and crouched by her side again, throwing a quick worried glance at Spike. The girl came round and let out a moan, one hand going to her head.

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked.

The girl looked between the two of them with confusion for a moment, before nodding and sitting up slowly.

“Yeah, I… What were those things?”

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” Buffy murmured, helping the girl to her feet, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I… My head kinda hurts, but yeah.”

“You should get it checked out, okay? Do you live near here?”

“Yeah, just round the corner actually.”

“Okay, go straight home, yeah?” Buffy said, “And get someone to help you with that.”

“Yeah. God. Thank you.”

Spike had been silent through their entire exchange but the girl turned to him then, wide eyes flicking to his face.

“You saved my life. Thank you.”



She watched the girl hurry through the graveyard and when she reached the gates, she turned to Spike worriedly.

“Spike?”

“She thanked me… and I hurt her.”

He seemed with her at least, but she could see the shock, the guilt in his eyes still.

“Spike, it was an accident,” she said firmly, taking both of his arms and shaking him slightly.

It was so strange to see him so like his old self in appearance but reverted back to that tortured man. She just hadn’t realised it could take something so simple to send him back to that place. For just a moment, she contemplated letting him drink from her – but dismissed it in the next minute. Spike had to learn to cope with this himself.

“It was an accident,” she repeated, meeting his pained gaze, “She’s fine though. She might have a bit of a headache… but she’s alive. Because of you, Spike.”

He hardly seemed to be listening and he suddenly raised his hands, looking down at them.

“Blood on my hands.”

She grabbed both hands, folding hers around them.

“There’s nothing there,” she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that she was fighting to hold back, “Spike, please. Come back to me.”



Something seemed to click and his eyes met hers.

“I’m with you, love.”

She gave a tiny sob of relief and threw herself against him, wrapping both arms around his waist and holding on tightly.

“You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, wrapping his arms around her loosely, one hand stroking over her hair.

She pulled back and studied his face intently.

“Are you really okay?”

He looked troubled for a moment but then he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t really believe him but decided to leave it, releasing him and moving to his side.

“Come on, let’s go home,” she whispered, one hand holding his arm tightly.

He nodded and fell into step beside her, the swagger gone.

Support





Banner by Dawnofme. Another equally brilliant banner has been made by nmcil but as of yet, I haven't figured out to upload it. Go check it out here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nmcil/2538519545/


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Spike was so quiet all the way home and almost as soon as they got through the door, he excused himself and disappeared up to his room. She decided to leave him for a while, sensing that he might need some time alone. However, as soon as she had washed and changed into her pyjamas, she made her way along the corridor to his room. She knocked lightly and pushed the door open, letting a flood of light into the room. He was sitting on the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him – and she had a feeling he had been in that position since he had come up here.

She pushed the door to, plunging the room into near-darkness again, and carefully found her way to his side, sitting beside him on the bed. He said nothing but she saw his shoulders sag and instinctively, she wrapped both arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, her head resting against his shoulder. His hand came up to the arm across his chest and he gripped her tightly, his head bowed.

They sat there for a long time in silence, listening to the sounds of the night, she holding onto him tightly, as if she could absorb some of his pain. Finally, she couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

He gave a strangled laugh and his grip tightened on her arm.

“And say what?” he whispered back, “Big Bad scared himself by actually caring.”

“It’s a start,” she joked weakly and he gave that strangled laugh again.

“Used to be so easy,” he murmured, “What was it I said to you? Happy Meals on legs.”

“Still a disturbing image.”

He laughed again, bitterly, and sank his head against hers.

“Well, imagine what it’s like when you start saving Happy Meals and they’re… they’re thanking you.”

She was silent for a pause but then she spoke up quietly.

“Is it so very bad?” she whispered, “Saving someone’s life?”

He sighed and bowed his head again.

“Wouldn’t expect you to understand, love. S’what you do every night, innit?”



He sighed again, his eyes on the floor.

“For just a minute… for the shortest moment… I…”

“Yeah?”

“I could smell the fear on her,” he got out painfully, “And just for a second…”

He couldn’t finish and she squeezed him tighter.

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to slip up, you know.”

“If you weren’t there…”

“I know you wouldn’t have hurt her,” she remarked firmly, shaking him slightly, “I know.”

“Got a lot of faith in me, Slayer. Not sure I deserve it,” he murmured, raising his head, bright eyes shining in the darkness.

“I know you, Spike. You’re stronger than that.”

“It’s hard though,” he admitted quietly, eyes on the floor again, “Not when I’m here and it’s just you and your mum. You know I would never hurt either of you.”

“I know.”

“But people I don’t know… strangers…”

“But you don’t still see them Happy Meals, do you?” she asked worriedly.

“No… but after a hundred years… well, old habits die hard and all that.”



They fell silent again and she tightened her hold, not knowing what to say to make this better. She had a feeling there was nothing she could say anyway that would help. This was just something Spike had to deal with, something he had to learn to live with.

“Is everything okay here?”

They both jumped at her mother’s quiet voice and whirled to face the door, loosening their hold on each other. She looked at Spike and he met her gaze for a long moment before turning back to her mother.

“Yeah,” he answered hesitantly.

“Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t sleep. I thought I’d make some cocoa.”

“That’d be great, Joyce,” Spike answered with a genuine smile.

“Good. I’ll go get started on that.”

Her concerned gaze flicked between them once more and she left the room.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m gonna be fine, love,” Spike reassured her, “Just… well, it’s something I’ve got to cope with.”

She nodded and pushed herself to her feet.

“I’m sure cocoa is clinically proven to help though.”

“Oh, definitely,” he agreed, getting to his feet and slipping out of his jacket and laying it down on the bed lovingly.

“You’re not going to give it up again?” she asked softly as he continued to look at the coat. His gaze met hers and he smiled weakly.

“No… It’s a part of me.”

She smiled softly and turned towards the door with him following her.



They found two warm cups of cocoa waiting for them and she settled onto a stool opposite her mother with a smile.

“Thanks, Mom. I totally needed this.”

Her mother smiled and took a sip of her own drink, eyes flicking to the vampire.

“Got any of those little marshmallows?” he asked with a shy smile and with a laugh, Joyce pulled the bag out from under the worktop and placed it in front of him.

“I had a feeling you might want some.”

He smiled shyly again and set to filling his cocoa with marshmallows, both Summers’ women watching him with affectionate smiles. When he looked up quickly and found them watching him, they both looked away and Buffy turned to her mother.

“So, how’s things at the gallery?”

“They’re going well. We had a new shipment in this week so it’s a lot of work… but it’s worth it at the end of the day.”

“Well, if you need any help, you know where I am,” Buffy remarked and her mother’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Thank you, Buffy.”

“Well, I’ve got a whole summer and nothing to do,” she explained with a shrug.

“You could get a part-time job.”

When she crinkled her nose at the idea, her mother laughed.

“I guess not.”



Spike remained quiet, watching them as he slowly drank his drink. When he had finished, he got to his feet and rinsed the mug, leaving it in the sink.

“I’m gonna head up,” he said hesitantly, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay. Goodnight, Spike,” her mother replied softly.

“Night,” he murmured, eyes flicking between the two of them, before he turned and left them alone.

Buffy watched him leave with a frown, her eyes on the doorway in thought for long moments after he had left.

“I’m worried about him,” she finally remarked, turning back to her mother.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think he’s been hiding from us… not showing us that it’s… hard on him.”

“He’s a man,” her mother answered with a light laugh, “They don’t often like showing weakness.”

“I know, but… he knows he can talk to me. I’m just worried he’s bottling it all up and then… it just all hits him at once.”

She trailed off, thinking of the horrified, tortured look in his eyes earlier.

“Did something happen tonight, Buffy?” Joyce asked worriedly.



She raised her head and nodded.

“We were on patrol and there were these demons,” she explained, “We took them out… saved this girl. Well, Spike saved this girl…”

“But?”

“He had to get her out of the way and she fell and hit her head… I think he thought he’d killed her.”

She could see his reaction clearly in her mind’s eye and she frowned again.

“He totally freaked out. I thought I’d lost him again.”

“But he’s fine now.”

“I know, but…” she trailed off, biting her lip, “I feel so bad, Mom.”

“Why?” her mother questioned, surprise clear in her expression.

“I’ve been so caught up in… in Angel… and I forgot about him. I stopped looking out for him… and he was so good to me.”

Her mother reached out and placed a hand over hers.

“You had a lot to deal with,” she soothed, “I’m sure Spike understands.”

“But he… he’s so close to the edge, Mom. I didn’t realise until tonight.”

“Well, we just have to keep an eye on him,” her mother suggested with a soft smile, “Make sure he knows he’s not alone.”

She nodded slowly, linking her fingers through her mother’s.

“He can stay here, can’t he, Mom?”

“Of course he can,” Joyce answered, her surprise evident in her voice.

“He was talking about leaving…”

“I’m sure we can convince him to stay,” Joyce remarked, smiling gently, “After all, we are very stubborn.”

She laughed and nodded her agreement, tightening her fingers around her mother’s.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Buffy. And we’re going to get through this… together.”

“I know.”

“Good… Now, it’s time we both got some sleep.”

She rose to her feet along with her mother and lingered as she cleared away the mugs and turned off the kitchen lights. They climbed the stairs and paused at the top, her mother reaching out to brush her hair back from her face.

“Try not to worry too much.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good.”

Her mother placed a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, honey. Sleep well.”

“Night, Mom.”

Her mother disappeared into her room and she paused for a moment, her concerned gaze going to the door of Spike’s room. Finally though, she turned and went into her own room.

Weirdness




This is the banner by nmcil. Isn't it brilliant?


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She wasn’t sure where the time went but the days just seemed to fly by. It was already over a week since she had said her goodbyes to Angel and the pain was starting to fade. She was relaxing again, letting herself enjoy everything she had: her friends, her family, even her calling. On occasion she would find herself thinking about Angel, about where he might be. There were even moments when she regretted not asking him where he was going. But then she would force the thought of him aside, or someone or something would distract her and she would be her old self again: that young girl who trusted, who loved easily, who was devoted to her friends, who embraced her duty and, most importantly, was happy. She had missed her through the long days of her misery.

Now, she was starting afresh. And if there was one person around her who knew about starting afresh, it was Spike. After his near breakdown of the previous week, she had been worried about him but had quickly come to see the change in him. Where before he had been confused, he now threw himself into the role of demon-fighter, revelling in the fight and even in the saving. He had surprised her really, with his sudden enthusiasm – had surprised all of them. She had thought it a ruse at first, an illusion to hide what he was really feeling, but the longer it continued, the more she realised that this was for real: this was the Spike he wanted to be.




“You had way too much fun back there,” she commented with a laugh as they left the graveyard.

“Come on, Slayer, you had fun too, don’t lie to me.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at him.

“What’s next?” he asked eagerly and she laughed out loud, “What?”

“Calm down.”

“The night’s only just beginning,” he remarked, bouncing on his toes.

“And that’s probably going to be all the action we get. It’s summer and trust me, summer is dead time.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and… was he actually pouting?

“Lame.”

She raised an eyebrow at the unusual Americanism and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“Fine, bloody stupid.”

She smiled and shook her head, tuning into her surroundings. Spike suddenly hooked an arm around hers and forced her into a quicker pace.

“Come on, Slayer, let’s find some action.”

“Spike, you’re crazy.”

“Been there, done that,” he answered absentmindedly, bright eyes scanning the night. She drew him forcefully to a stop and smiled when he frowned at her.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“What’s that then?” he asked huskily, cocking an eyebrow, and she couldn’t hide the blush it brought to her cheeks.

“I’m thinking… night off… some Bronze… maybe a movie,” she replied.

“Lame,” he murmured under his breath and she punched him on the arm, causing him to smile.

“Oh come on then,” he sighed and with a delighted squeal, she looped her arm through his and turned him in the direction of the Bronze.



The Bronze was unfortunately dead – and not even in the kind of way that would have made Spike’s evening – and after a few bored minutes, they left, without even stopping for a drink.

“Man, when did the Bronze get boring?”

“What do you mean ‘get’?” Spike scoffed, pulling out a cigarette and balancing it between his lips as he searched out his lighter.

“Fair point. But it’s the only decent place in Sunnydale.”

“Well, actually, there’s a few good demon bars… don’t reckon you’d be too welcome there though, love.”

“Well neither would you now,” she pointed out and saw him frown.

“Never gonna get to play a decent game of poker again.”

“Aww, poor Big Bad,” she teased, smiling widely, “Are the other demons not playing nice with you?”

He narrowed his eyes at her and let out a warning growl that just made her smile grow.

“Warning you, Slayer.”

“Oh, I’m so afraid.”

“Ah, you forget though, Slayer… I know your weakness,” he drawled, stopping and turning to face her.

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” she retorted, hands on hips.

Instead of answering, his hands dived out and his fingers dug in just below her ribs, causing her to squeal in a definitely un-Slayer-like manner.

“Spike! No!”



She managed to break free of him and with a little laugh, dodged out of his way, retreating to a safe distance.

“That’s cheating!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he answered, eyes shining as he smirked.

“Hmphh,” she sulked, crossing her arms across her chest and keeping at least a metre between them as he fell into step beside her again.

“You’re a poor loser.”

“Am not!”

He just laughed and reached out to loop one arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“Stop sulking and I’ll let you choose what film we watch.”

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, considered for a moment, and then smiled widely. He laughed and propelled her into motion again.

“Come on then, let’s get home so you can torture me with some awful girly film.”

She laughed lightly and linked her arm around him, grinning at him as he tried to pretend to be annoyed and failed miserably.



Once she had perhaps all of the cushions from her bed and a throw and everything to make her more than comfortable, she turned to the DVD collection, skimming over them, her tongue just peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she ran her finger down the pile.

Nope; Too long; Not happy enough; Too much Sandra Bullock.

Finally, she came to a DVD she hadn’t watched in months and she paused. Yeah, it was brilliant and yeah, she’d definitely be crying by the end. Or hell, even by the beginning… but it had to be done. She turned and held it aloft, waving it at a nonchalant Spike. He was slouched on the sofa, already looking more than comfortable, a bottle of beer in one hand. He tilted his head to get a better look at the cover and then his eyes went wide, a look of panic crossing his face.

“Na-uh. No way, Slayer.”

“You said I could choose.”

“I’m not watching that,” he protested, but something in the way he spoke had her second-guessing, wondering just why he was so fervently against watching this particular film.

“Please,” she pleaded, giving him full-on puppy-dog eyes.

“Slayer,” he growled.

“Pleeeease.”

“Buffy,” he pleaded back, his expression softening into desperation.

“Please?” she whispered and he sank his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes.

“Kill me now.”



With a wide smile, she slipped the DVD into the player and quickly threw herself into the spot next to Spike, arranging cushions to make herself perfectly comfortable. And then the film was starting and she couldn’t help herself. As soon as she heard that music, she was off, biting her lip to fight back the sobs that were threatening to overwhelm her.

“He just… he loves her so much,” she choked out, eyes fixed on the screen.

“Yeah,” Spike replied, his voice unusually gruff.

She glanced at him and then did a double-take.

“Spike,” she murmured, trying not to smile.

He turned to look at her and quickly looked away again, wiping his sleeve not so discreetly over his eyes.

“What? I’m fine. Watch the film.”

“Spike,” she repeated again, unable to stop her smile, “Are you crying?”

He looked absolutely offended by the idea and scoffed at her.

“Of course I’m bloody not!” he answered, clearing his throat and sniffing, “Must be getting ill.”

“You’re a vampire, you don’t get ill.”

“It’s just the light. Shut up and watch the film,” he got out testily, but there was no real venom in his voice.

She smiled and scooted over, moving to lay her head against his shoulder.

“It’s okay. This film gets everyone going.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sniffed, his voice muffled in her hair.

“You know you’re a really bad liar.”

“Shut up,” he murmured.



By the end of the film, she had tears streaking down her cheeks and onto Spike’s shirt.

“I swear the music just makes it worse,” she choked out.

“Mm-huh,” he murmured in reply, clearing his throat again and making several suspicious noises behind her head. She sat up and smiled affectionately as he dabbed a hand to his eye.

“I had something in my eye,” he got out defensively.

“Sure ya did.”

He scowled at her but she just smiled triumphantly.

“But tell me ‘Love Story’ isn’t the best film in the world?!”

He shook his head, wiping his sleeve against his eyes again.

“You tell anyone, you’re dead, Slayer.”

She just smiled and reached out to brush a hand over his cheek, wiping away the moisture.

“You’re such a big softie,” she teased quietly.

He scowled and half-heartedly pushed her away but with a smile, she returned to her position curled up beside him.

She smiled and reached out to wipe his cheek again, surprised when he closed his eyes with her touch, completely relaxed. He was such a tactile person, she mused, studying his face even as he wrapped his hand around hers, eyes still closed. She indulged in a few more brushes over his cheek, surprised by just how soft his skin was. His eyes opened lazily and met hers – and they both froze.



She hadn’t realised just how intimate this position was until that precise moment and she could practically feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She could feel his hand, cool in hers; could feel his breath against her face; could feel a burning at every point where their bodies were touching. She inhaled sharply and she saw his eyes darken, darting to her lips. Suddenly dry, she wet them, eyes locked on his, trapped in this crazy moment. He tilted his head, moving a fraction closer – and then in the next moment, he was gone, jumping to his feet in a blur.

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he hurried out and before she could make any sort of reply, he was gone and she was watching the door with wide eyes, wondering what on earth had just happened here. Something huge, that’s for sure. She knew she wasn’t imagining it – they had been seconds away from kissing. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wasn’t entirely sure how it had come to that either. One minute, they had been laughing and joking and then… that electrifying moment that still had her heart racing. Sure, a lot of their interaction lately had bordered on flirtatious but it wasn’t a conscious action. At least she didn’t think it was. Spike had become one of her best friends and, yeah, he was hot but that didn’t mean… well, this was just crazy.

Long minutes later, she heard his footsteps on the stairs and she sat up quickly, turning her eyes to the door. He paused in the doorway, eyes meeting hers nervously and she quickly broke the silence.

“Wanna watch something else?” she got out, forcing cheerfulness to cover her confusion.

“Yeah, alright,” he murmured, returning to his spot beside her – but leaving far more space between them than there had been before.

“Something to make you feel manly again?” she teased, hoping to brush over this weirdness as she got to her feet.

“I’m plenty manly, thanks ever so, love,” he retorted with a smirk and she smiled, shaking her head and kneeling down by the DVDs again. With her back to him, her smile grew, relief spreading through her as they seemed to return to the same sort of playfulness they had shared up until that weird moment.


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A/N: I defy anyone to watch 'Love Story' and not cry! If you haven't watched it, you have to. And the music does make it worse, I swear!

Haunting



[Banner by Dawnofme]

Great news (for me anyway): I got 4 more nominations for this story. It's nominated at SunnyD Awards for Best Angst, Best Drama, Best Plot and Best Unfinished! Thank you to whoever nominated me and thanks to everyone leaving lovely reviews.

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That night, the dream returned with full-force. It seemed as soon as she closed her eyes, he was there, hovering just out of reach. But not for long. She reached out for him and then he was hers, cool hands on her skin, a cool mouth moving over her neck, her jaw and finally finding her mouth. It was different though, this time. Before, she had dreamed of soft embraces, of barely-there kisses, of gentle caresses but now her dream was tinged with passion, a fierce and intense passion.

She could feel her body humming, could feel every touch imprinted in her skin. He was burning her up with every touch and she kept begging him for more. She was plastered to him, arms and legs entwined as he kissed her hard, kissing her with all the experience of a hundred years, reducing her to a mindless, helpless state. She found her hands running over him, tracing the long line of his back, burying her hands in his newly-blonde hair, pulling him closer.

She couldn’t seem to get him close enough. Never close enough. She whimpered his name, begging him, and as if from far away, his chuckle drifted to her as his mouth fell to her neck. She arched against him, hands twined in his hair, his name falling from her lips over and over again. And then, she felt him change and in the next second, she was crying out as his fangs pierced her skin.



She bolted upright, chest heaving, breath coming fast and hard as she struggled to calm herself down.

“It was just a dream. Just a dream,” she whispered.

“You alright?”

She screamed and whirled to face the vampire, gripping the covers to her chest.

“Hey, shh,” he soothed, moving to sit on the edge of her bed, “It’s just me.”

“S-spike,” she stammered out, wide eyes watching him, hoping he couldn’t hear just how fast her heart was beating as a result of that dream, “What are you…”

“You were making a lot of noise. You okay?”

Oh God, she really hoped she hadn’t said anything incriminating in her sleep.

“I… yeah. It was… it was just a dream.”

Worried eyes flicked over her and he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Your heart’s hammering away. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she got out, nodding. “I’m just… you scared me.”

“Sorry. I thought you might be having a nightmare. Heard you call my name.”

Her eyes went wide and she really hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“I-I did?”

“Yeah. Sounded like you were in pain,” he murmured, his voice full of concern, his hand tracing over her shoulder, soothing her.

“I don’t remember what it was about,” she lied.

He nodded and, somewhat reluctantly, withdrew his hand, sitting there in silence.



“Spike?” she called out and he raised his head.

“Yeah?” he asked absently and she smiled affectionately.

“I’m gonna go back to sleep now.”

“Oh, right,” he got out quickly, getting swiftly to his feet, “Sorry.”

“You… you can stay if you want,” she suggested, surprising herself.

Bright eyes locked on hers for a long moment and then he seemed to shake himself out of his daze.

“Nah, you’re alright, love. Can’t sleep anyway.”

“You okay?” she asked, worry instantly kicking in.

“Just fine,” he answered with a tiny smile, “Nothing for you to worry your little head about.”

“Spike…”

“I’m fine,” he repeated firmly and she decided to leave it.

He smiled hesitantly and moved towards the door but she called out before he could leave.

“Spike, you do know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

He turned back to her and smiled softly.

“I know.”

She smiled back, warmed by his smile.

“I mean, after all, I have seen you cry over ‘Love Story’ so it’s not like you’ve got anything to hide from me,” she added, struggling to suppress her smile.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m gonna have to find a way to get you back for that,” he murmured lowly, dangerously, and she was surprised by just how much it made her heart race.

“You can try,” she answered with a smug grin.

“Night, love,” he called, seemingly conceding defeat for tonight.

“Night,” she replied, smiling still as he slipped out of the room, shutting the door silently behind him.




“What the hell is happening to you?” she whispered to herself, sinking back against her pillows and staring at the ceiling, “This is Spike.”

Previously, the name would have acted as a deterrent of the best kind, reminding her of the monster that had come to Sunnydale trying to kill her. But now that name only brought memories of the last month or so with it: she saw him huddled on the floor, tormented by his conscience - but more often than not, she saw him smiling at her, blue eyes shining brightly. She shook her head, driving the thoughts away.

This was crazy. Just because of that weird thing earlier… and a stupid dream… it didn’t mean anything. She was just… lonely. And she had just been dumped so yeah, a little rebound crushing was bound to happen. Not that she was crushing on Spike. She just happened to enjoy spending time with him. And he was very pretty. She groaned and rolled over, burying her head in her pillow.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” she growled at herself.



Sleep did not come easily and when it did, it was a restless one, plagued with confusion. She tossed and turned in her sleep, her mind playing forth for her images of the two vampires she knew so well, blending them until she could hardly tell the difference. She would be kissing one, and then suddenly it would be the other. These scattered images flashed before her eyes, until once again she was bitten – by which vampire she knew not – and she jolted awake again, her heart thumping and her head pounding.

“Stupid dream,” she grumbled, rolling out of her bed lazily.

She could just see sun peeking over the horizon and decided it wasn’t worth trying to get to sleep now – not that she thought she could. She was a little wigged by her weird dreams. But that’s all they were, weren’t they? Dreams. The weirdest things happened in dreams, as she well knew. It didn’t mean it was real. She shook her head and wrapped her dressing gown around herself, sighing and rolling her tense shoulders.

She shuffled out of her room and down the stairs, yawning as she slowly become more and more awake.

“Even a Slayer dream would be better,” she mumbled to herself.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to head through to the kitchen, but froze when she spotted a figure out of the corner of her eye.



She crept to the living room doorway and stopped, taking in the sleeping vampire. He was sprawled on the couch, one arm slung over his eyes, the other covering something on his chest. She tilted her head, looking closer, and recognised a picture frame. When she glanced at the table beside the couch, the empty space confirmed that it was the picture of her and her mother. She smiled softly, sadly, confused by this puzzle of a vampire. Outwardly, he was so confident, so brash, so unafraid of anything… but scratch the surface and you found a vulnerable man who craved affection. She hadn’t been blind to the way he reacted to her mother’s kindness, his whole face lighting up at the slightest sign of affection. What had subdued him so, made him so desperate to be cared for, she wondered.

Drusilla had loved him, she was sure of it – as much as an insane vampire could love anyone – but she felt like she was missing something, some piece of the puzzle. Then again, maybe this wasn’t Spike, maybe this was William. He had never spoken of any siblings, had mentioned only his mother and that very rarely, and she had never heard of any friends, or really of anyone involved in his life before his turning. He could be hiding the past, but she had a sneaking suspicion that William had been a loner – and that Spike sometimes suffered from that same curse.



He shifted in his sleep, drawing her eyes back to him, and she smiled softly, taking in his relaxed features. He looked so young when he was asleep, the hard lines of his face softening into almost boyish ones. She didn’t even really know how old he was, she thought. So much of him was a mystery, but there were a few things she knew: she knew he was a good, honourable man; she knew he was loyal; and she knew he was strong and passionate. Was that it? Was that all she knew about this man she had been living with for over a month?

Well, she knew he was attractive, beautiful even. But that was obvious to anyone who wasn’t blind. He had lost some of the bad boy swagger and mysterious attraction since his ensouling, but was regaining it quickly, and it did not mean he had lost his attraction altogether. As long as he had those high, sharp cheekbones and those bright blue eyes, that was a given. She smiled, eyes trailing over his familiar features.

“You gonna stand there all day or are you gonna make some breakfast?”

She jumped at his sleepy murmur and she saw him smile, eyes opening slowly to meet hers.

“I was just thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed, “Breakfast sounds good.”

She turned and quickly made her way into the kitchen, with him joining her only moments later, yawning and running a hand through his messy hair.

Succumbing



[banner by Dawnofme]

Two updates today. Hope you enjoy!

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Her mother joined them about an hour later, rushing about as she got ready for work, both slayer and vampire doing their best to help and not to get in the way.

“I’ve got another new piece coming into today and a press launch to plan, so I might be late,” she explained, putting on her earrings as she quickly ate some toast.

“It’s okay, we’ll wait,” Buffy replied, “What do you want for dinner?”

Her mother frowned slightly and she smiled.

“I’m not cooking, Spike is.”

She saw her mother’s face flood with relief and she turned to the vampire with a smile, pinning her hair back.

“Since when?” he asked with a smirk.

“Since you showed that you can cook better than either of us,” she retorted and her mother nodded in agreement.

“Well, if I’m not too busy,” he teased.

“Do try and fit it into your busy schedule,” Joyce commented and finally grabbed her bag, smoothing her hair back. “Right, have a good day, honey.”

She pressed a kiss to Buffy’s cheek and quickly moved to Spike, pressing one to his cheek as well.

“You too, Spike.”

And then she was gone in a flurry.

“Don’t forget to bring the mail in, Buffy,” she called out and then the door slammed behind her.

She looked at Spike and they both burst out laughing.

“I think my mom’s losing it.”

He smiled affectionately, dipping his bread into his blood and making her vaguely nauseous.

“Right, mail.”



She skipped out to the front lawn, enjoying the early morning sunshine on her face, and retrieved the pile of mail from the box, dawdling back to the house, flicking through the letters.

“Anything interesting?” Spike asked, making her jump almost as soon as she entered the house as he appeared from the kitchen, sipping from his mug.

“Bills, mostly.”

She flicked through them and suddenly paused, her attention drawn to a small postcard. She picked it out of the pile and laid the others down on the side table, studying the picture of Los Angeles. She turned it over and frowned when she found no message, only the address.

“Someone on holiday?” Spike asked idly, ducking his head to look at the back of the postcard as he passed her, moving into the living room.

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning, “There’s no message or anything.”

She wandered into the living room and he looked up from his mug, arching an eyebrow.

“Let’s have a look,” he suggested, holding out a hand.

She moved and sat down beside him, handing him the mysterious postcard. He took one look at the scrawled address and froze, eyes flicking to hers.

“You don’t recognise the handwriting?” he asked in surprise, sitting up and placing his mug on the coffee table.

“Should I?”

He paused for just a moment and then passed the card back to her, eyes meeting hers.

“It’s from Angel, love.”



Her heart stopped, she was sure of it, as she just sat and stared at the empty postcard in her hand. So Angel was in Los Angeles. She never figured him for the big city kinda guy, but she guessed you could disappear in a place that big. She sighed and bowed her head, taking a few deep breaths.

“Buffy?” Spike called softly, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

She took another deep breath and raised her gaze to his.

“I’d really like it to stop hurting now,” she whispered sadly, forcing a weak smile.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, his hand moving to her cheek, fingers stroking her skin.

“It will stop,” he murmured, thumb brushing over her temple, eyes fixed on hers, “In time…”

She smiled weakly, tears in her eyes.

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Promise,” he answered sincerely, eyes still locked on hers, hand cupping her face.

They both stopped, gazes holding one another, and this time there was no hesitation: a moment later, his lips were touching hers hesitantly, his hand still against her cheek. She kissed him back just as hesitantly and he leant towards her a tiny bit more, lips pressed against hers more firmly. She brought one hand to his shoulder, holding him lightly as she succumbed to this wonderful, tender kiss. His mouth was as cool as she had dreamed and she gave a little sigh against him, fingers tightening their grip on him ever so slightly.

And just as quickly as it had started, it was suddenly over. Spike pulled back, wide eyes meeting hers, his hand faltering and quickly moving away from her face.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, seemingly shocked, “I… Buffy, I can’t.”

Before she could say anything, before her brain could even process the fact that he had stopped kissing her, he was gone, disappearing out of the room and up the stairs. She sat there in silence, raising a shaking hand to her lips, still cool from the touch of his. Her eyes dropped to the postcard still clutched in her hand and she shook her head.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered to herself.



She sat there for a long time, her head spinning, pounding. Finally, her mind made up, she pushed herself to her feet, laying the postcard down on the table. She climbed the stairs and made her way along the corridor to Spike’s room, pausing outside. She lingered for a moment longer before she finally got the courage to knock on the door.

“Spike?” she called.

After what seemed an interminable pause, she heard his voice.

“Come in.”

She pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened room – curtains drawn against the dangerous sun. She paused just inside the doorway, her courage failing as she saw him turn worried eyes on her.

“I… erm… I had to…”

She took a deep breath, dropping her eyes to the floor before raising them to his once more.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked visibly taken aback by her words and she continued quickly.

“I just… it was my fault… I-“

“Buffy, no. It was… my fault.”

He raised uncertain eyes to hers and then quickly looked away again.

“I shouldn’t have-“

“No, I-“

They both looked up and when she saw his hesitant smile, she smiled herself.

“Guess we’re getting nowhere, huh?” she murmured awkwardly.



A silence fell between them, stretching on for a painfully long time, until Spike suddenly moved, sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing his bright gaze on her.

“I care about you, Buffy,” he started uncertainly, “And I… I’d give anything for you not to be hurting… but I… I can’t be your rebound guy.”

She made no reply, staring at him, wondering if that was really what he thought had happened. She suddenly realised he was watching her intently, waiting for a reply and she stammered out one.

“I… It was all my fault. You know I’m… my head’s all over the place and… well, that… that postcard from Angel…”

“I know, love,” he murmured softly, his whole demeanour softening as he relaxed. She smiled awkwardly and bit her lip.

“Can we just… you know, forget about…”

“Of course,” he answered quickly and she nodded, turning towards the door, needing to get away.

“I’m going to go out. Do you want anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

She moved but paused at the door, turning back to him.

“We’re… we’re okay, yeah?” she asked uncertainly, worried eyes meeting his gaze.

“Always,” he replied with a slight smile and she let out a sigh of relief, smiling softly.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded again and then quickly turned on her heel and left his room.

Cowardice



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She didn’t know where she was going – and it didn’t really matter: she just needed to be out of the house and away from the awkwardness that had just almost ruined her relationship with one of her closest friends. Of course he wasn’t interested in her like that. He was, like, hundreds of years old - what exactly did she have that made her special? That he hadn’t seen before? Nothing. And he was still getting over Drusilla leaving. She was sure the getting-over period for a century-long relationship had to be pretty long. And, she reminded herself, you’re still getting over Angel.

So why on earth had she just been kissing Spike fifteen minutes ago? Apart from the fact that he was, as she had expected, an amazing kisser. She was sure Willow was a good kisser – didn’t mean she was going to be testing that theory. He had kind of kissed her, but he was a guy and even a hundred-year-old vampire had to have the usual reaction, right? Kiss first, think later. Although, Spike didn’t really seem like the kind of guy who’d go round kissing people with no emotion attached. He was the emotional type and, despite outward appearances, not promiscuous in the slightest.

So it was all her fault. She’d kissed him and he hadn’t wanted her to feel bad – worse – so he’d played along. That theory hurt more than she wanted to admit and with a groan, she shook her head, speeding up her steps, as if she could escape from her thoughts if she just walked quick enough.



She soon found herself outside Giles’s house and with a sigh that might have been relief, she bounded across the courtyard. Giles was sure to distract her. Several hours later, she wasn’t sure she appreciated the distraction: Giles had decided today was the perfect day to teach her about every kind of demon and she had reluctantly agreed.

It did not prove to be much of a distraction though as she would just sit there staring at the book, her mind elsewhere – namely back at home with the blonde vampire. It was crazy, the craziest thing that had happened to her in a long time and even though she knew kissing Spike was of the major weirdness, she couldn’t help feeling annoyed that he hadn’t seemed to enjoyed it at all. Maybe she really was as useless as Angelus had hinted. She sighed, eyes closing for a moment as she tried to banish these stupid repetitive thoughts from her brain.

“Buffy?”

She quickly looked up at Giles and forced a cheerful smile.

“I suggest a break,” he said softly and with a sigh of relief, she dropped the book she was holding onto the table, giving him a sheepish smile in answer to his surprised look. He disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later with drinks and, to her surprise, cookies.

“Cookies?” she asked perkily.

“Well, after all the reading you’ve done… I realise it is not your favourite activity.”

She smiled widely and reached out to take a few cookies, shoving one into her mouth as Giles settled on a chair near her.

“So, how are things?”

She nodded, chewing the cookie quickly and swallowing.

“Yeah, good. It’s summer so it’s quiet…but I kinda like it.”

He nodded and took a sip of his drink, regarding her over the top of his glasses.

“And how’s Spike?”



She knew her reaction was far too deer-in-the-headlights and quickly averted her eyes from her Watcher’s. After all, he had that same mind-reading ability that her mother seemed to possess.

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“He’s coping with the soul?”

“Yeah. Patrolling, fighting the bad and all that.”

“And there have been no problems?”

She paused for a moment, thinking of his near-breakdown, but then she shook her head.

“No, it’s all good.” Except for that bit where you kissed him and made everything weird.

Giles nodded and sat back to enjoy his drink, giving her a soft smile. She nibbled away at her cookie, lost in thought, a frown crossing her face. She really had to fix this thing with Spike, but she couldn’t even think about facing him now. She was still far too embarrassed and he was far too grown-up and sensible about the whole thing.

The quiet of the room went uninterrupted for several minutes, until suddenly the door burst open, announcing the arrival of her friends.

“Ohh, cookies!” Xander called out and she saw Giles smile around his cup, eyes shining with amusement as they met hers.

“Yes, it’s really quite amazing how you appear whenever I have biscuits out,” Giles commented to the boy, smiling affectionately as the gang settled around them.



“Are you researching something?” Willow asked, looking at the books scattered over the table.

“Just reading,” Buffy explained with a slight grimace.

“Buffy was reading up on demons,” Giles added.

“Fun,” Xander remarked around a mouthful of cookie and Buffy smiled at her friends. Now here was a good distraction. Xander smiled back at her and then looked around in confusion.

“You’ve lost your pet vampire.”

So much for the distraction.

“My pet?” she replied in amusement.

“Well, he does follow you round like one,” Xander explained with a shrug, “Where is he?”

“It being the middle of the day and all… he’s at home, sleeping. That whole sun-allergy thing, remember?” she joked.

“You’ve been joined at the hip lately, is all,” Xander said, shrugging again, “But now we’ve got you all to ourselves. Mwahaha.”

She smiled at his attempt at an evil laugh but his words did give her pause to think. She really had been spending a lot of her time with Spike and Spike alone lately, which probably hadn’t helped the whole not-crush thing. But then, spending time away from him wasn’t much of an option either, what with him living in the same house. There was no hiding from this predicament.



She was a coward. A big yellow-bellied coward who was too afraid to go home, knowing that she would have to face more awkwardness with Spike. Because, yeah, he seemed to be okay with it but no-one was okay with it that quickly. And she was definitely not okay. As the sun set, she left Giles’ house but instead of heading home, she headed for the nearest graveyard. She just couldn’t face the vampire just yet and decided maybe a few encounters with the not-so-friendly kind of vampire might help.

The cemetery was quiet, but this being in Sunnydale, not ten minutes later, she had something to fight. The fight was over far too soon though, leaving her unsatisfied and with a gash across her forehead. She finally conceded defeat and headed for home, blood trickling down her face as she helplessly tried to stop the bleeding. She stumbled through the door, slightly light-headed from the blood loss, and closed it behind her, steadying herself.

“Buffy?” her mother called out and with a sigh, she went through into the dining room.

“Oh God, I forgot about dinner!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw the table, eyes carefully averted from the vampire’s, “Sorry. I-“

“Buffy, what happened?” her mother got out worriedly, getting to her feet and rushing to her.

“Huh?!” she said and then when she saw her mother’s gaze directed at her forehead, she continued, “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just a scratch.”

“We need to get you cleaned up.”



Before she could say anything, her mother had rushed from the room, leaving her alone with Spike. He rose and moved towards her hesitantly, eyes soft with concern.

“Something get a hit in?”

“I’m fine, really,” she reassured him, unable to hold his gaze, “Doesn’t even hurt.”

He took another few steps, stopping just inches from her, raising tentative fingers to her wound. She jerked away from his touch though and his eyes widened as she stepped back.

“I’m fine,” she repeated sharply.

“Buffy-“ he started but her mother's voice interrupted him.

“Come sit down and let me clean you up.”

Her mother appeared again, guiding her into a chair and placing the first aid kit down on the table.

“Mom, really-“

“Hush.”

She fell silent, knowing there was no use in arguing as she succumbed to her mother’s ministrations.

“It’s quite deep,” her mother exclaimed.

“It’ll heal by the morning, Mom. It’s really not that bad.”

“Honey, you’re covered in blood.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She trailed off as Spike left the room, unable to stop herself from watching him leave.



“He’s been so quiet all evening,” her mother whispered, sparing a glance at the door, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, shrugging as her gaze dropped to her hands.

Her mother was silent, cleaning the cut gently, cradling her face in one hand.

“Buffy… has something happened between you two? Did you have a fight?”

“No,” she replied quickly – too quickly, she realised, as her mother’s eyes narrowed on hers, “No. We’re fine.”

Her mother didn’t seem to believe her but she left it for the moment, returning to her task. When she had finished, she placed a small bandage across Buffy’s forehead and sat back with a gentle smile.

“There, much better now. I can see your pretty face again.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, smiling weakly.

“Now, come and eat some dinner. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. Spike made the most wonderful spaghetti.”

She let her mother guide her into a chair nearer her own and reluctantly piled up her plate with food. Spike returned a moment later and lingered by the table, eyes flicking over her and then fixing on Joyce.

“I’m just going out for a bit.”

“Okay,” her mother answered softly, “Be careful.”

He gave a half-smile – perhaps at the insanity of someone telling a vampire to be careful – and with another quick glance at her, he was gone.

Want



[wonderful banner by dawnofme]

A/N: I might not be able to post an update until Monday so I apologise in advance! Hope you like this chapter- it's a bit of a gut-wrencher.

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She had been feeling bad earlier but now she just felt absolutely wretched. She was still a little dizzy from the blood loss but when her mother went up to bed, she refused to follow, remaining downstairs. She had completely messed things up with Spike by acting like a stupid little girl and she had to make things right or she knew she would not sleep tonight. Spike had been gone for hours now and the longer he was gone, the worse she felt. If she’d just shown a little maturity, tried to act normal…

She groaned out loud and rested her head against the cushions of the couch, wishing he would come home so she could apologise. Any anger or embarrassment had disappeared the moment he had left the house because she had seen the look in his eyes just before he turned and left: she had hurt him and it was an expression she had never wanted to put on his face. How could she make things right if he stayed out all night though?

She let out a troubled sigh, curling up on the couch and drawing the throw over her. She’d just get comfortable while she waited for him. She should have known better though – moments later, she was fast asleep.



The sound of the door closing woke her and for a split second, she was confused, before she remembered why she had been waiting up.

“Spike?” she called out desperately, kicking the throw away from her frustratedly. She quickly got to her feet, a wave of dizziness passing over her, but kept herself steady as he stopped in the hallway, watching her hesitantly. She just stared at him for a long moment and then she sagged.

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted out.

His eyes snapped to hers, surprise etched into his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I was so stupid. Please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. I wasn’t even thinking, I was just… reacting and I feel so awful. I’m sorry, Spike. I’m so sorry.”

She finally came to the end of her speech – rehearsed at least five times earlier that evening – and waited in agony for his reply.

“It’s fine,” he finally answered wearily.

“No, no it’s not!” she almost shouted back, startling him, “Don’t just pretend that it’s okay. It’s not okay. It’s all gone wrong and it’s my fault.”

She could feel herself welling up and she fought against it helplessly.

“Just tell me what I can do to make it right,” she whispered, her face twisted as she fought the tears, “I can’t lose you.”



He hesitated for a moment and then in three long strides he was with her, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she sank against him, the tears unheeded as they crawled down her face.

“Shh,” he murmured into her hair, “You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Shhh.”

She couldn’t stop the tears now they had started and she buried her head against him, hands twisted in his shirt.

“I was so horrible to you.”

“Hey now,” he murmured with a small chuckle, “I’m a big boy. And that wasn’t exactly horrible, love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she choked out, hiding her face against him, “So, so stupid.”

“No, you’re not. Come on, calm down.”

She obeyed, trying to calm herself with long, deep breaths, her grip on him tightening. When she had calmed down a little, he rubbed his hand over her back.

“That’s better. Now tell me what’s going on.”

She raised wide, tearful eyes to his and shook her head, averting her eyes again.

“I can’t.”

“Didn’t you tell me just last night that I could talk to you about anything? Well, the same goes for you. Talk to me.”

She hid her face against him, her cheeks flushed with colour.

“I can’t. I’m embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, love,” he murmured, his voice light with laughter, “After all, I’m the one got all soppy over that bloody film. You can always hold that against me.”



She couldn’t help but giggle but could not raise her eyes to his. She took a deep breath and pulled away from him, her eyes fixed on their feet.

“Was kissing me really that awful?” she blurted out, her eyes flying to his and then just as quickly to the floor again, her whole face reddening.

He was quiet for a painfully long time and then one hand tapped her on the chin, drawing her hesitant gaze to his.

“You really think that?” he asked, half amused, half worried.

She held his gaze for a moment before looking to the side.

“Seemed that way,” she got out with a shrug.

She felt more than heard him sigh and then she was being guided back towards the couch and she sat, unable to avoid his gaze as he knelt in front of her, one hand in hers.

“Buffy, I…” he hesitated, but forced himself to continue, “I know what Angel – Angelus – told you. The night after you… were together. Made you feel like you were nothing, I’d reckon.”

She ducked her head, not wanting him to see the pain that memory caused – only intensified by the thought that Angelus had shared it, probably laughing it up with the other vampires. With Spike.

“I can’t!” she choked out, moving to flee but being stopped as Spike caught her, forcing her gently back onto the couch. He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, guiding her gaze to him.



“You listen to me though,” he continued softly, holding her gaze, “Don’t you ever believe that, okay? Don’t let anyone make you believe it.”

“He made me feel like some… useless little girl who didn’t even know how…”

She trailed off, the memory too painful to relive.

“Shh,” he soothed, his hand stroking her cheek again, “He only wanted to hurt you.”

He paused and then raised his troubled but sincere gaze to hers.

“Buffy, kissing you was… bloody amazing.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his admission and she felt her heart beat just a tiny bit faster as she watched him avidly.

“Hear me?” he repeated, his voice lower, huskier, “Bloody amazing.”

“But?” she whispered and he gave her a tiny half-smile.

“But it’s not what you need right now. I’m not what you need right now.”

“I-“

He placed a finger against her lips, halting her.

“Just hear me out, yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes holding his, her fingers unconsciously twining tighter around his.

“You mean a lot to me, Buffy. Don’t think you realise just how much. Never imagined being so close to someone like you, someone so… so pure.”

He smiled and stroked his thumb over her jaw.

“I won’t lie to you,” he murmured, his voice almost hypnotically soft, “I want you.”

Her eyes went wide and she went to speak up but he shook his head and she stopped.

“But there’s some things more important than that.”

He paused again, seemingly searching for the right words, then he laughed lightly and met her steady gaze again.

“I’ve never had a friend like you, Buffy,” he admitted and then smiled wryly, “Never had a friend at all, really.”

She wanted to say something but forced herself to remain silent, only squeezing his hand tighter in hers.



“You’re a beautiful girl, Buffy.”

She almost did speak out in protest at that but as if sensing it, he rephrased his words.

“A beautiful young woman. So full of life and… pure, like I said. And kissing you was not awful. Not by any measure.”

He sighed and ducked his head for a moment before returning his gaze to hers.

“But I want to see you happy, Buffy. Really happy. And I… well, there’s a limit on my happiness, ain’t there?” he finished wryly.

She stayed silent for a moment, but then she spoke up hesitantly.

“So, let me get this right… you did like kissing me… and you want me… but you just want to be friends… because of your soul?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise and then smiled wryly.

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Oh my God!” she burst out, jumping to her feet and staring down at him, “You’re as bad as him, do you realise that?!”

“Buffy-“

“Just don’t!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in frustration, “God, I’m such an idiot. I thought you were different.”

“Were you even listening to a bloody word I said?!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and turning her towards him.

“I heard it all, Spike. Sounded vaguely familiar. Oh wait, you missed out the bit where I should ‘find someone real’.”

She jerked her arm out of his grip and turned her back on him, raising a weary hand to her face.

“I’m going to bed,” she sighed.



She hadn’t taken more than two steps before he caught her again, spinning her back round.

“Spike-“

Her protest was silenced as his mouth slammed down against hers, his hand threading through her hair, his other arm winding around her waist. Helpless to resist, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, succumbing to his kiss as his tongue guided her mouth open and plunged inside. She let out a helpless moan and he softened, his mouth moving gently against hers, his hand resting lightly against the back of her neck.

It was what she had dreamed of for weeks, but the reality was even more mind-blowing. She hadn’t realised until that moment just how much she really, truly wanted him. He finally pulled back, both of them panting, his eyes pained.

“You’ve ruined me, Buffy,” he murmured, his hand brushing over her hair.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, not really understanding, her hands trembling where they rested against his shoulders. He smiled painfully and traced his fingers over her jaw, his expression more troubled than she had seen it in days.

“’Course you didn’t. Probably didn’t even realise you were doing it,” he murmured absently, his hand stroking over her features.

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

“If you knew how long I’ve wanted you…”

“Spike, please,” she whispered, her voice shaking, one hand coming to his face, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean what I said.”

He opened his eyes and met her worried gaze and smiled softly.

“Yes, you did. Every word of it. And it’s true, I guess.”

He cupped her cheek in his cool hand, blue eyes fixed on hers.

“I do want you to find someone… someone ‘real’, for want of a better word.”

“And if I don’t want someone real?” she whispered painfully, knowing that the argument was already lost but unable to stop herself.

He paused for a moment, smiling sadly and brushing his thumb over her lips.

“Buffy, what I can give you… s’not even worth it.”



He pressed a short kiss to her lips and then forced himself away, troubled eyes holding hers for a long moment before he turned and made his way out of the room. She stood there staring after him for several minutes before she shook herself out of her daze, barely aware of the tears streaking down her cheeks once more. She was even more confused than she had been earlier that day.

But one thing was crystal clear: she wanted Spike. What she had thought was just a crush had revealed itself to be so much more with his kiss. And he wanted her – which should have warmed her, but the distress it caused him pained her. She had never wanted to cause him pain and now here he was, troubled because of her. Because she wanted him and wanted to force him to have her. He was right, she knew he was right – after all, hadn’t Angel already given her plenty to think about when it came to potential boyfriends? – but it didn’t stop what she felt in her heart.

It didn’t stop Spike from creeping into her heart and surprising her when she realised he had been in there for so long already, even since before Angel’s departure. Her body was still reverberating with his kiss, his words, and part of her was ready to follow him, but she held back. He had made himself clear – the risk was too great in his eyes. There was nothing to do but accept it and try to forget, try to move on.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I know they're both idiots and they need a slap upside the head but I'll fix it, so take it easy on me, please? :-) It wouldn't be Spuffy if they got together and everything was perfect straight away. Wouldn't be realistic, with the amount of issues they both have right now. There, hopefully that'll stop the worst of the hate :-) Have a good weekend!

Tension


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I'm back! Expect mega amounts of updating this week - I'm moving house on Friday and I want to get as much up as possible before I lose the internet temporarily.


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They were both subdued the next morning as they sat opposite each other at the table, quietly eating breakfast as Joyce chattered away next to them. He looked about as cheerful as she felt and when she caught his eye, she forced a weak smile, which he returned just as weakly. She could feel her mother watching them and knew it was only a matter of time before she said something. She decided to beat her to it.

“You up for patrol tonight?” she asked lightly and Spike’s head snapped up.

“Yeah, alright.”

“Actually,” her mother interrupted, “I have a proposition for both of you.”

They turned to her and she smiled warmly.

“As you know, I’ve got that launch at the gallery tonight.”

They both nodded, knowing how hard she had been working to get ready for it.

“Well, why don’t you come? Both of you?”

She paused, glanced at Spike, and then turned back to her mother.

“I don’t know, Mom. I mean, I have to patrol.”

“I’m sure you can have one night off.”

“I don’t have anything to wear anyway.”

“Buffy Summers, I do your laundry so don’t give me that,” her mother exclaimed with a wide smile, “Now, if I have to order you both out, I will.”

Joyce paused for a moment, looking between them, and then smiled softly.

“You both look like you need a night out. And I’d love to have you both there.”

She knew there was no way she was getting out of it and her gaze fell on Spike, who had remained silent so far. He held her gaze for a second, and then turned to her mother.

“If you really want us there, Joyce…”

“Of course I do!”



There was no avoiding it now and even though she was sure her mother was up to something, she couldn’t disagree that they both needed a night away from this house. And maybe being out in a crowd would make it easier to be around him. She could only hope, she thought with a sigh as she dressed, piling her hair on top of her head and inspecting herself in the mirror. She let her hair fall around her shoulders and sighed again. She just couldn’t bring herself to care much about how she looked tonight, which was more than unusual for her – but what was the point when the one person she wanted to take notice was off limits?

She finally settled for a rather plain black skirt and pink, strappy top. She brushed her hair quickly, applied a modest amount of make-up and with a final glance at herself in the mirror, she headed downstairs to wait for the others. She found Spike in the living room, waiting, and he rose to his feet as she came in. She saw his eyes flick over her but then he forced them to hers, smiling weakly.

“You look… great.”

“Thanks… Erm, you too.”

She wasn’t lying either – he was wearing a smart black shirt with patterns and a pair of dark trousers, all contrasting with his lightly-styled blonde hair. She realised she was staring at him and she quickly looked away, clearing her throat nervously.

“Are you ready then?” her mother called out as she hurried down the stairs, fastening her earrings as she turned and looked at them. She smiled then and stopped, taking them both in.

“You both look wonderful.”

In no time, she had ushered them out the door and into the car and was chatting away excitedly, covering their awkward silence.



When they reached the gallery and went in, she suddenly became very glad that Spike was here. Everyone in the room was at least thirty and they all looked sophisticated and intelligent – and of course, they were all art lovers. None of these things described her and with a nervous smile, she followed her mother into the crowded room.

Soon though, Joyce abandoned them to talk to the artist and they lingered in a corner, watching the crowd in silence.

“Good numbers,” Spike murmured, “She’s done well tonight.”

“She deserved to, after all the work she did.”

He nodded and they fell silent again. She sighed and looked around the room, wishing things didn’t have to be so hard between them.

“Buffy.”

She started when he reached out and caught her arm and her eyes flew to his.

“Can I talk to you?”

She nodded, swallowing nervously and letting him lead her out into the small landscaped garden at the back of the gallery. He released her but stayed close, blue eyes locked on hers.

“Buffy, I’m… I’m sorry for everything. For all the trouble I’ve caused you.”

She smiled half sadly, half affectionately.

“It’s not your fault, Spike. It just… I guess it just kinda happened.”

“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I just… Look, do you want me to move out?”

“What?! No! No, of course not,” she exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing his arm, “Don’t leave, please.”



He smiled softly and reached out to place his hand over hers.

“I’ve really messed things up, haven’t I?” he said wryly, “Last night I… I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Are you saying you didn’t mean them?” she whispered.

“No. Buffy, you know I…,” he paused, sighed, and then continued, “I meant them. Every word.”

“But it’s made things super-weird,” she admitted with a tiny smile.

“Yeah. And I… well, I don’t want that, love. Meant the other stuff too. Never had a friend like you and if I completely bollixed that up…”

“You haven’t,” she soothed, her hand tightening on his arm, “We’re still friends. It’s just… it’s kinda hard to go back to the way we were before.”

“I know.”

“But we’ll be okay,” she whispered, “So don’t you dare go leaving or me and my mom will kick your ass.”

“Now, that is a bloody scary idea,” he murmured, smiling as he reached out to brush her hair from her face.

“Spike,” she said firmly, catching his hand and giving him a slight smile.

“Yeah?”

“Less touching would probably make this a bit easier.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he got out, quickly retracting his hand and smiling sheepishly, “I understand.”

“Well, I guess we should head back in.”

“Yeah.”

They turned back to the gallery and she gave him a hesitant smile.



“Slayer.”

She frowned as soon as she heard her name being growled and threw a look at Spike before quickly swivelling to find herself facing five vampires.

“Just great,” she muttered under her breath before speaking up, “Uh, sorry guys. Strict dress code and bumpies really don’t meet it, you know?”

They just growled in return and she threw another look at Spike, ascertaining that he was ready, before they both flew forward, taking on two vampires each and sharing the third. Almost as soon as she started, she knew her skirt was going to cause problems and as she went to kick one of the vampires, she frowned when her leg went no higher than knee-height. With a grimace, she leant down and ripped her skirt, turning back to the vampire. He came for her and she kicked up, hitting him in the face and sending him flying.

“Much better.”

She followed him and caught him by the collar, throwing him into a small sculpture and grimacing when it snapped in half.

“Oops!”

Using her distraction to his advantage, one of the vampires tackled her to the floor and she struggled against him.

“Spike! I don’t have a stake!” she cried out, kicking the vampire off her.

A moment later, she was tugged to her feet and a stake was slipped into her hand. She gave Spike a bewildered look and turned to meet an oncoming vampire, driving the stake into his chest and killing him.



“You carry stakes now?” she asked, turning back to Spike.

He shrugged, giving her a sheepish look and turning in one swift movement to stake his own vampire. One of them had fled somewhere along the line and they were left with one apiece now. She turned to her vampire and smiled, gripping the stake tightly in her hand.

“You know, you made me ruin my skirt and now you’re gonna have to pay. I really loved this skirt.”

“Oh, get over it, Barbie,” the vampire growled, rushing her – and earning him a stake to the back as she dodged and spun and plunged her weapon into his back as he sped past her. She straightened, dusted down her hands and looked over at Spike. He had his vampire in a headlock and was trying to wrestle him to the ground.

“You need some help there?” she asked with a smile.

Both vampires looked up and Spike narrowed his eyes at her. The other vampire used this moment to drive them both forward, propelling Spike into her and causing them both to topple to the floor. Before either of them could move, he was up on his feet and sprinting away, leaving them in a tangled mess.

“Next time, I bring stakes… and a sensible skirt,” she grumbled, eyes flicking up and meeting his – and going wide when she saw how he was looking at her. She felt a hot flush suffusing through her as she realised he had her pinned to the ground in a rather comprising position – or so it must have looked to an onlooker.



“Hey, you two! What are you doing?!”

They both jumped at the man’s deep voice and quickly untangled themselves, sitting up and smoothing down crumpled clothes just as the security guard came to a stop a few inches from them. He looked down at them and frowned.

“This is private property. Want to tell me what you were up to?”

“Really not what it looked like,” Buffy mumbled, pushing herself to her feet, noticing the guard’s gaze falling to her ripped skirt and then moving to Spike’s half-open shirt. Yeah, this didn’t exactly look good.

“My mom owns the gallery,” she explained quickly, “I’m Buffy Summers. We were just getting some air.”

“Well, I suggest you head back inside now, Miss Summers,” the security guard said sternly and with a gracious smile, she grabbed Spike by the arm and hurried across the grass and back towards the building. She was trying hard not to giggle and when she glanced at Spike, she saw him struggling to suppress a smirk.

“That was not funny!” she hissed, elbowing him in the side even as she tried not to laugh.

“Was a bit.”

“There you are!”

Her mother had really worked on that sudden appearance thing and they both jumped.

“What were you doing outside?” she asked, confused gaze flicking between them and their rumpled clothes.

“You had a slight vamp problem,” Buffy whispered and her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “All sorted now though.”

Joyce’s wide eyes flicked between the two of them in concern but then she gave a sigh of relief and nodded.

“I suggest you get yourselves straightened up. The toilets are just down the hall. And then I want to introduce you to some of my friends.”

They agreed and slipped out to the toilets, both bursting out laughing as soon as they were out of the main room.

Temptation


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She hadn’t thought much about temptation before, had never felt it gnawing at her as it did now, making her restless and uneasy. Her lust for Angel seemed like a distant memory now, faded into colourlessness in comparison with the burning-hot desire she felt for Spike. And living under the same roof as him day-in and day-out just compounded the problem.

And the worst thing of all? Now she knew what he tasted like; she knew how it felt to be in his arms, kissing him. And that made it so much harder to fight what she felt, what they both felt. It had been building for weeks now, just waiting to be unleashed and now that it had been, she wondered how she had possibly lasted those long, long days without kissing him. All those times when she had been wrapped up in his arms, when he had been holding her close, soothing her, were treasured memories now. Because they could not go there again, she realised that. Whenever she was near him, it was all she could do to keep her hands from reaching out and touching him.

It was agony, but she bore it out, forcing herself to look away when their gazes locked, to move away when he was standing too close, to spend as much of her time away from him as possible. They still patrolled together but she was more than relieved on the occasions when her friends joined them, relieving the tension that could not be broken between them. Because she knew the wonder of his kiss. And it was destroying her, slowly but surely.



Sometimes, in the moments of her greatest doubt, she wondered what was so very bad about this but in a moment, her mind – her conscience – reminded her of the very real danger of falling for a vampire whose soul hung by a thread, easily displaced. They both knew the danger at hand far too well, had both suffered as a result of the last time she had made that mistake and she couldn’t bear a repeat, however much she yearned for one more kiss, one more touch. It did not comfort her in the slightest when she noticed Spike’s sleepless nights – and days – or when she saw the troubled look in his eyes; that look of despair that she had caused.

Their friendship danced a fine line of tension and awkwardness, strained every day by the mere presence of the other. Yet neither of them could give up this sweet torture, because it meant they got to be close, even if it was not in the way they really wanted. Every minute together was relished, despite the tension, because they had become a partnership of sorts, in far more ways than a simple romantic relationship might have prompted. They had once been reluctant allies but now they were partners, friends, fellow warriors. It was to maintain this bond that she forced herself through every encounter with him, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it got easier every time.



“I think we’re Bronzing tomorrow,” she spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen over them for the last twenty minutes of patrol, “If you wanna come.”

“Might make an appearance,” he answered nonchalantly, taking a drag on his cigarette.

She couldn’t help but notice that his intake of nicotine – and of whiskey, not that her mother knew of his secret stash – had increased of late.

“Gee, you’re too gracious, your Highness,” she replied with an affectionate smile and he grinned back at her, their eyes holding for an almost dangerously long moment, before they both looked away.

“Thought the Scooby snacks were joining us tonight?”

“You know, you really have to stop calling them that. Bit too much like Happy Meals on legs for my liking.”

He smiled softly and they moved on again, enjoying a moment’s almost-comfortable silence.

“They’re gonna bump into us at some point.”

“Probably literally,” Spike murmured, “Knowing Harris.”

She giggled helplessly but forced her expression into a serious one.

“Now that’s not… necessarily true… always.”

She couldn’t suppress her smile for much longer and he smirked, letting out a long stream of smoke from his lips. Those lips that were so deceptively soft, so cool, so-

“So, I was thinking for my mom’s birthday we could do something nice. Take her for a meal or something,” she blurted out, hoping to ignore her wandering thoughts.

“Sounds good.”



They passed into the next cemetery and she instantly felt a shock zing up the back of her neck – and not the Spike-related zing that had been on the edges of her consciousness through the whole patrol. She saw him stiffen as well, bright eyes surveying the darkness.

“Think we’re in for a bit of luck,” he murmured lowly, slipping into game face, his eyes shining.

They crept along silently, both tensed, ready to fight. He held up a hand as they paused behind a crypt and she stopped, waiting for his signal. Golden eyes locked on hers as he held up three fingers and then he nodded and as one, they moved. She rounded the crypt one way, while he went the other, and they pounced on the unsuspecting vampires simultaneously. She punched away the first vampire and turned to the second, and froze for a split second. The vampire growled at her and jumped her, sending her toppling to the ground. But all she could do was stare at the little girl wearing a vampire’s face.

She had never seen a vampire so young. She kicked the girl off and was soon distracted by the first vampire as he threw a punch that she dodged quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike dust his vampire and he righted himself, eyes fixing on the girl as he growled – and froze in exactly the same way she had. The vampire girl took her opportunity and leapt at him but he was ready, using her momentum to send her flying into a nearby gravestone.



Her attention was ripped from them as the vampire she was fighting kicked her legs out from underneath her and she fell to the floor with a dull thud. She quickly rolled as he went to stamp on her and flicked her leg out, tripping him. She caught him, trying to pin him, and they rolled around for a moment, before she was able to send him flying over her head. She quickly got to her feet and followed, grabbing him before he could rise and driving the stake through his heart. She quickly turned and saw Spike still battling the vampire girl. She had no real style but had speed on her side and Buffy could clearly see the girlish features of the vampire were putting Spike off.

Suddenly the girl tripped though and she saw him pause for a moment, before kneeling and staking her. He stayed on his knees and even from here, she could see him trembling. She watched him for a long time and then quickly moved to his side, crouching beside him.

“Spike.”

He raised his head and when she saw the despair in his eyes, she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and touching his cheek.

“She couldn’t have been more than thirteen. Just a little girl,” he whispered in shock, his eyes on the ground.

“Look at me,” she coaxed, stroking her fingers over his cheek.

He raised his head once more and met her gaze, swallowing hard.

“You can’t feel bad about everyone, you know,” she whispered, smiling a strained, tight smile.

“She was just a bloody kid, Buffy.”

“I know,” she soothed, reaching out to rest her other hand on his shoulder, “And it’s horrible. But… it’s better now. She’s dead.”

He nodded uncertainly and closed his eyes for a moment, sighing.



She brushed her hand over his cheek and felt him moving into her touch but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He opened his eyes and nodded slightly.

“I’m fine.”

They were so close, too close and she snatched her hand away, not missing the flash of disappointment that tainted his expression.

“We- we should-“

“Buffy,” he murmured desperately, reaching out for her hand, halting her. What was so easy about this again, she wondered.

“Err, guys?”

They both looked up, surprised to find the Scooby gang looking down on them in mixture of confusion and amusement. Buffy quickly got to her feet and smiled.

“Post-fight pow-wow,” she explained.

“Shouldn’t the pow-wow come, like, before the fight?” Xander asked with a half-smile.

“Guess the cheerleader in me can’t resist extra pow-wows,” she exclaimed with a smile, glancing at Spike as he finally stood up by her side.

Her friends smiled and then soon launched into news and anecdotes as the group set off. She hung back for just a second, touching a hand to Spike’s arm. He forced a smile though and moved on and after letting out a shaky breath, she caught up, wondering just how much longer she could take this.

Mistake


[banner by dawnofme]


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In the end, Spike bowed out of Bronzing the next night and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She had one of her favourite outfits planned and everything – although, judging by the way he looked at her when she came to say her goodbyes to him and her mother, it was probably a good thing they weren’t going to be spending the evening together. It was hard enough staying on her side of the room as it was, and with him looking at her with sinfully dark eyes it suddenly became a painful endeavour.

She forced herself out of the house quickly and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart before she set off for the Bronze. She was determined to enjoy herself, even if she did start to wish Spike had come with her as she got closer to the club. She could have fun without him though – after all, Bronzing was what her and her friends did best. It seemed like forever since she had been at the Bronze with them – and tonight was extra special because the Dingoes were playing and they had important groupie duties to do. She could totally spend a night without Spike.



She missed Spike and it was absolutely ridiculous. It had been less than an hour but if she had to see Xander and Cordelia kissing or Willow swooning over Oz any more, she was going to combust. She was feeling distinctly like the fifth wheel and it was no fun at all. At least she would have someone to talk to if Spike had come.

Instead, she was stuck at the table with her friends, staring into space as they enjoyed themselves around her. It was too much to bear and she got up from the table, not bothering to make her excuses – no-one was paying her any attention anyway. She was halfway to the door when she collided with someone and she looked up quickly.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Hey! Buffy, right?”

She smiled slightly and nodded - she had only collided with that college guy, Todd.

“Todd, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment’s pause but then he smiled.

“You weren’t leaving?”

“Was thinking about it,” she answered with a shrug.

“Now that’d be a shame. Let me at least get you one drink.”

She hesitated for a moment but her slightly-dented ego couldn’t help but enjoy the attention.

“Sure,” she finally said, smiling as he took her hand with a grin and began to weave his way through the crowd, drawing her with him.



“So, that’s what college is really like?” she asked with a flirtatious smile, “Pulling pranks? It’s looking a lot more interesting.”

He laughed and she smiled widely, genuinely enjoying talking to him.

“You have to know when to let yourself go a bit,” he said with a smile, “Work hard, play hard, you know.”

“I’m more of the work a bit, play a bit more kinda gal,” she remarked and he laughed again.

“Wouldn’t want to stretch yourself,” he teased, leaning against the bar beside them.

“No, sirree.”

He smiled warmly and she smiled back, taking a sip of her drink.

“You wanna dance?” Todd asked as a faster song started up.

“Definitely,” she replied, placing her hand in his outstretched one and letting him lead her onto the dancefloor. For a guy, he was a reasonably good dancer and they moved together, his hands just resting on her waist. She closed her eyes and raised her arms, losing herself in the music, a small smile playing about her lips.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Todd murmured, his mouth close to her ear.

She opened her eyes and smiled coyly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes as she draped her arms over his shoulders.

“I am.”

“Well, that’s good,” he answered, moving a step closer, “I really hope your brother doesn’t interrupt again.”

“My- Oh, he’s not my brother,” she explained, continuing quickly at his suspicious look, “He’s just a friend. Gets a bit over-protective sometimes.”

“Do you need protecting, Buffy?” he asked huskily, moving closer.

“Not right now,” she murmured back, her eyes drifting to his lips.



His kiss came as a surprise but she relaxed into it after a few seconds, tightening her arms around his neck. This was what seventeen-year-old girls were supposed to do, wasn’t it? He pulled back though and smiled uncertainly.

“I hope that was okay.”

“Definitely okay,” she replied, wondering when her inner coquette had decided to come out and play. But God damn it, she was fed up and she was lonely and a few kisses with a cute guy was nothing to be ashamed of. So he wasn’t the guy she wanted to be kissing – that was life. Spike wanted her to find someone ‘real’… well, here was someone very ‘real’.

A voice told her to stop before she did something she regretted, but she ignored it and drew Todd towards her again, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, drawing her against him, one hand settling on her lower back. And it felt good – it felt good to be held and kissed and know that it wasn’t going to bring about the end of the world. They broke apart to catch their breaths and he smiled warmly, running a hand down her back.

“You know, you’re a pretty amazing girl, Buffy Summers.”

She smiled, warmed by the compliment, and leant forward to kiss him again, winding her arms around him. She was young and she was going to enjoy her youth, instead of sitting around waiting for spinsterhood to set in, damn it. She deepened their kiss and he returned it eagerly, holding her tight against him. He pulled back again, breathing heavily, eyes dark with desire as they looked down at her.

“My car’s just outside… if you want…”

She hesitated for a split second but then she gave him a shy smile and placed her hand in his. He stared at her for a long moment, eyes dark and hungry, and then he turned, guiding her out of the club.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


It was late, or maybe it was early, when she got home, opening the door and sneaking in quietly. Her stomach was queasy as she shut the door behind her, resting her head against it for a moment.

“Buffy?”

Her whole body tensed up at Spike’s quiet voice and it took a few seconds for her to gain the courage to turn to him, still resting against the door.

“Good night?” he asked lowly, every line in his body speaking his worry, even if he wouldn’t.

“Great,” she answered dismissively, “Bed-time now.”

She smiled and moved for the stairs but he moved forward as well, bringing her to a halt in his steps.

“I just wanted-“

He stopped dead, eyes widening and nostrils flaring and her stomach sunk. The one person she really didn’t want knowing about this – and she had forgotten about his vampire sense of smell. He was agonisingly silent, eyes flying over her, unbelieving, and all she could do was stand there, hating herself as he visibly struggled with himself.

“What have you done?” he finally whispered, every word tinged with pain, shock, horror.

Feeling like so much trash already, she took a deep breath and averted her eyes, going on the defensive.

“It’s none of your business,” she got out, her voice nowhere near as confident as she would have liked.



She heard him move and then he was right in front of her, one hand gripping her arm almost painfully tight.

“Buffy,” he repeated through gritted teeth, shaking her slightly, “Look at me.”

She forced her eyes to his, trying hard to maintain a blank expression. She saw him soften and worried eyes flicked over her.

“Did he hurt you?” he murmured.

“No, he didn’t hurt me!” she exclaimed, fighting to keep her voice low, shaking his hand off, “I’m fine.”

She was close to breaking but she would not let him see what she had done, how stupid she had been. She saw him clench his jaw and his eyes turned cold as he cut off his emotions.

“Well, that’s alright then, isn’t it? I hope you had a lovely evening.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, his anger visibly close to the surface.

“And I hope you were careful,” he bit out.

She reacted before she could even think, her hand flashing out and slapping him across the cheek. She regretted it the same moment but she saw his jaw clench again, steeling himself.

“He gonna come back for seconds, Buffy? Or did you scare another one off?”

His words, an attempt to make her hurt because she had so obviously hurt him, hit their mark. She faltered for a moment and he saw it, eyes flooding with regret as he stepped forward and reached for her.

“Buffy…”



“Don’t,” she snapped, closer to tears than she wanted him to know, “Leave me alone.”

He forced himself to a halt but she saw his eyes studying every line of her face and she looked away quickly.

“What have you done?” he said again, horrified.

“I made a mistake, okay!” she shouted helplessly, dropping to the stairs and burying her head in her hands.

They both heard the sound of the door a moment later and she tensed, keeping her head bowed as she listened to the sound of her mother’s footsteps moving along the corridor and stopping at the head of the stairs.

“Buffy? Spike?” she called out worriedly, “What’s going on?”

She raised her head slowly to meet Spike’s gaze and she sighed.

“Its nothing, Mom. I just… I got into a fight with Willow,” she lied.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure you’ll work things out in the morning. Now, I think it’s time to go to bed.”

She turned and gave her a mother a weak smile as she nodded.

“I know.”

Her mother looked between them in concern one last time and then nodded and turned, heading back into her bedroom.



The silence lasted minutes longer until she finally pushed herself to her feet.

“Buffy,” Spike said softly, taking a step towards her, one hand hovering near her arm.

She raised her eyes to his and bit her lip, forcing the tears back.

“I’m going to bed,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Buffy, please.”

“I-I can’t do this now, Spike. Not now,” she murmured, eyes pleading him to just leave her be. He finally conceded, taking a step back, his hand falling to his side. She gave him a wobbly smile and turned, making her way up the stairs and slipping into her darkened room.

Without changing, she curled up on her bed, biting her lip so hard it bled as she fought against the tears that were so close to breaking out. She heard Spike climb the stairs and held her breath as he paused at the top, but a moment later she heard his door close behind him and she let out the breath, her whole body trembling. She turned and buried her head in her pillow, finally letting the tears flow.

Repair


[banner by dawnofme]


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, with a clearer head, she felt even worse than she had the night before. What had she done? A simple plan to enjoy herself had brought hurt for everyone involved - except Todd, who had seemed more than pleased with the outcome. She felt sick, dirty, and guilt kept clawing at her, making her feel even worse. She felt like she had cheated on Spike, like she had cheated on herself by ignoring the feelings she had for him.

When she dragged herself out of bed, her first act of the day was to shower, standing under the spray so long it went cold, leaving her shivering. Nothing could wash away the disgust she felt though. She finally climbed out of the shower when her mother banged on the door, asking her if she was okay. She opened the door to her mother and forced a smile.

“Buffy, you’ve been in there for ages. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” she answered tiredly, forcing another smile and heading for her bedroom.

She was barely inside before she heard her door open behind her and she turned to find her mother watching her with worried eyes. Joyce just looked at her for a long time and then her expression softened.

“Buffy, I’m your mother… but I’m not blind or stupid.”

Her eyes went wide as she sank onto her bed, wondering what her mother would say next.

“You were arguing with Spike last night.”

She breathed a sigh of relief but then tensed again.

“Of course we weren’t, Mom. We were just-“

“Shouting at each other?”

She sighed, knowing there was no use in trying to deny it.

“It’s nothing,” she murmured.



She heard her mother sigh and then she moved, sitting beside her on the bed.

“I don’t know what’s got into you two lately. One minute you’re quiet, the next you’re fine – and now this!”

“People have arguments, Mom.”

“I’m not going to push. Obviously neither of you wants to tell me what’s going on. But I’m telling you now, fix it.”

“Huh?!” she blurted out, turning to her mother in surprise.

“Buffy, I know how close you and Spike are. Don’t let a silly argument ruin that. You need to make it right.”

“I didn’t do anything!” she protested.

“Maybe you didn’t,” her mother replied with a soft smile, “But of the two of you, you’re the one with the worst temper-“

She went to protest but her mother cut her off.

“And the most stubborn. I know that Summers’ stubbornness comes in handy sometimes, but don’t let it mess up things with Spike.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t approve of some of my choices,” she grumbled.

“Would I approve?” her mother asked pointedly and she averted her eyes guiltily. Her mother reached out and took her hand then.

“I’m just saying, Buffy. Fix it, because before you know it, things will get out of control and you’ll lose him.”

She turned back to her mother, meeting her gaze with sad eyes.

“You think?”

“Unless you sort things out between you, yes.”

She sighed but nodded.

“I know, Mom. I-I’ll fix it.”

“Good,” her mother said and pressed a kiss to her head, “Now, have a good day. I’m off to work.”



She dressed in a daze, thinking on her mother’s words. She was right – but how the hell was she going to make things right? She wasn’t sure but she needed to see him, apologise for last night and, if she was really honest with herself, she needed the comfort of his company. She finished dressing, dragged her brush through her hair and then with a glance in the mirror, ventured out into the corridor and along to Spike’s room. She knocked and waited for his answer.

After a few moments, the door opened and a sleepy Spike looked at her in surprise.

“Buffy?”

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He wiped his eyes and shook his head quickly.

“It’s fine. What are you-“

“I came to apologise.”

He paused for a moment and then stepped back to let her through. As she moved to sit on the bed hesitantly, he turned on the light, squinting at the bright light. If she wasn’t so on edge, she might have smiled at how adorable he was when he was just waking up. He finally turned to her, leaning against the drawers opposite the bed, eyes watching her carefully. Taking her cue, she spoke up hesitantly.

“I… I’m sorry for… for the way I acted last night. And I… I’m sorry I hit you.”

“You’ve done worse,” he murmured with a tiny smile, “Seem to remember somethin’ about an organ.”

She smiled helplessly, warmed by the fact that he didn’t appear to hate her as much as she feared. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his, her heart in her throat.

“And I’m sorry for… for what I did. For…” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, her troubled gaze falling to the floor.



After a long silence, Spike spoke.

“Why, Buffy?” he whispered and her eyes flew to his, surprised at the depth of his pain.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back, “I just… I wanted to feel… I just wanted someone to want me and I…”

She trailed off again, fighting back her tears again, disgusted by her idiocy.

“What happened?” he asked softly, finally giving in and moving to sit beside her.

“You know what happened,” she choked out, unable to meet his eyes.

“And did it make you feel…”

“It made me feel sick,” she whispered, “All I could think about… was you.”

She turned tortured eyes towards his, pleading him silently to forgive her. He reached out to cup her cheek, eyes filled with pain, and it took all of her effort not to break down at his soft touch.

“Tell me what happened,” he murmured painfully, his tone indicating that he would rather not hear.

“I… We hung out a bit and then… I don’t know, we were suddenly… kissing.”

She stopped, not wanting to continue but he nodded, forcing her to.

“Then we… we went to his… his car.”

She saw something flash across his expression and she forced herself onwards, if only to get it over with. She let out a choked sob and she saw his expression soften, his thumb stroking over her cheek.

“A-afterwards he… he just… he was like ‘bye’, ‘see you round sometime’… It was pretty obvious there was only one thing he was interested in… and once he’d had it…”



She couldn’t carry on anymore and she burst into tears, bowing her head, helplessly trying to silence her sobs with her hand. A moment later, she was wrapped up in Spike’s embrace and she truly lost it, crying against him as he held her tight, shaking hands running over her hair and back, his mouth pressed against her hair.

“Oh, Buffy. Sweet Buffy,” he kept whispering, over and over again, his voice thick with emotion.

“What’s wrong with me?” she choked out, “Why do they always…”

He forced her gaze to his, hands cradling her face.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, do you hear me? Nothing. They’re the ones with the problem. Not you.”

“Spike, it hurts.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, drawing her close again, “Shh. They’re idiots. You, you’re perfect. Too good for them. They can’t handle you… don’t really know who you are.”

She didn’t know if he was talking about Todd or Angel now but it didn’t matter – the message was clear. She raised her head, one hand fisted in his shirt as teary eyes met his.

“And you?” she whispered.

He hesitated for a moment and she could feel his hand shaking as he brushed it over her hair.

“I understand with perfect clarity exactly who you are, Buffy Summers. You’re bright and strong and alive… and so bloody beautiful. You take my breath away… if I had any,” he finished, flashing her a wry smile.

“Spike,” she whispered, leaning into his touch.



She watched as his eyes darted to her mouth, saw him hesitate, torn – and made the decision for him, leaning forward and capturing his lips between hers. He let out a low moan against her and drew her towards him, lips moving against hers gently, worshipping her. He jerked back though, uncertainty plain in his eyes.

“Don’t push me away, please,” she whispered, leaning towards him.

He kissed her again, his hand twining in her hair as he held her close, deepening their kiss and drawing a helpless moan from her. She clung to him, one arm twined around him, the other pressed against his chest, gripping his shirt. He pulled away again, this time to let her breathe and she studied his expression, searching for some sign that this wasn’t another mistake. He met her gaze and stroked his fingers over her skin.

“What are we doing, Buffy?”

She felt her heart drop but as if sensing it, he leant down and brushed his lips over hers, that one touch soothing her frayed nerves.

“Taking up the challenge?” she replied with a nervous smile when he pulled back.

He smiled and brushed his hand down over her hair and trailed his fingers over her shoulder.

“Not afraid, are you?” she challenged and his eyes locked on hers, dark and serious. He said nothing for a moment but then he tightened his grip on her, drawing her close against him and pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Afraid of losing you to some other man,” he mumbled, “I can still smell him on you.”



She pulled back, raising her hand to his face, her expression pained.

“I was so stupid. I didn’t… I never wanted to hurt you. Please… please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he replied, “It’s my fault. I pushed you away because I thought it was for the best.”

“And now?”

He smiled and grazed his lips against hers, letting out that purr-like sound.

“I want to be good enough for you, Buffy. Because the thought of you with another man…”

Wanting to silence his doubts, she caught his lips with hers, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She poured all of her desire, all of her affection for him into her kiss and was greeted with a throaty moan as his arms banded around her, his tongue teasing her mouth open and delving inside. How could she have ever tried to replicate this with someone who was not him?

She pushed the thought aside when she suddenly found herself lying on her back, still clinging to Spike as he leant over her, kissing her hungrily, his hands running up and down her arms. He parted from her breathlessly, resting his mouth against her neck, his breath cooling her skin and making her arch against him.

“This… this is dangerous, sweetheart,” he breathed, holding back.

“I promise to behave if you will,” she teased, running her fingers up his chest to his lips. He nipped at her fingertips and then groaned, moving and collapsing on the bed next to her.



She pushed herself up onto her elbow, watching him with a faint smile as he closed his eyes, seemingly fighting his desire. That was fine – it really was dangerous – but there were a few other issues she needed to address. She shifted closer and rested one hand on his chest. Without even opening his eyes, he covered her hand with his and smiled softly.

“Spike,” she whispered.

“If I look at you, I’m gonna kiss you so I’m keeping me eyes closed,” he murmured with a smile and she laughed.

“Well, okay, just… don’t fall asleep on me.”

He smiled and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm.

“You know…” she started softly, smiling as he continued to kiss her hand, “When you gave me that whole speech about wanting me and being friends and blah blah blah…” She saw him smile and he halted this ministrations, listening intently. “…you never asked me what I felt. Never let me tell you what you mean to me.”

His eyes snapped open, fixing on hers in an expression of wary joy.

“Well?” he asked huskily.

“Well… I know you think this is just a rebound thing – why I don’t know – but I… it’s not. If anything, mister, you’re the one on the rebound.”

She jabbed him playfully in the shoulder but he turned serious, catching her hand.

“M’not on the rebound, Buffy.”

“Look, it’s okay… I get it. I mean, you and Dru-“

“Stop,” he got out firmly, drawing her to him, one hand cupping her face, “This has nothing to do with Dru.”

“And this has nothing to do with Angel,” she countered.



They were silent, his eyes fixed on hers as he traced his fingers over her face.

“Can’t blame me, can you?” he asked softly, “First time we kissed, you had that card from him in your hand.”

“Didn’t mean I was thinking about him,” she whispered, lowering her head and kissing him gently, knowing that this was something she could definitely get used to. And somehow, just a few kisses had dissipated the low ache in her chest and had actually made lying here with him on his bed a far more relaxed experience than she had expected. Maybe resisting temptation wasn’t going to be so hard after all.

Determined not to contradict herself, she pulled away from him before their kiss could heat up, smiling softly.

“You were about to say something about my hot little bod and how much you wanted me,” he prompted with a smirk, closing his eyes again.

“In your dreams.”

“Mmm, you have no idea, love.”

His words made her flush but she forced her attention back to what they had been talking about.

“I’m not rebounding,” she said firmly and he opened his eyes once more, one hand finding hers and clasping it, “I’m… seeing what’s always been in front of me.”

“The hot tight body, ‘course.”

She laughed and swatted him playfully but he caught her, drawing her down and she soon gave up the fight, happily curling up against him, her head resting her shoulder.

“S’not gonna be easy,” he murmured, his mouth muffled against her hair.

“It’s worth it,” she whispered, echoing his words to the contrary and she felt him tense for a second, before he relaxed and pressed a kiss to her hair.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I fixed it!! :-)

Insecurities



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It became a ritual after that: every day, after her mother had left for work, she would sneak into his room and they would lie on his bed together - kissing, talking, dozing. She knew what they were doing was dangerous – if it wasn’t why were they hiding it? – but she couldn’t stop. She needed him close; she needed him. Somehow, they had managed to avoid temptation so far, never going any further than kisses, but she knew from bitter experience that one day, it would be too hard to resist anymore.

Until that day came though, she thoroughly intended to spend every minute she could really getting to know this man who she had known in so many ways: as an enemy, as a friend, now as something more. They were closer than ever and she was in constant fear that her mother would realise just how close they were – but she seemed oblivious, merely expressing her happiness to see them friendly again. They were careful too, making sure never to show their affection in anything more than a platonic way in view of others. It was devious, yes, but she was not going to give this up for anything.

After the hell she had gone through, she reckoned she surely deserved a little TLC and when it came in the form of a gorgeous blonde vampire, who was she to complain? It was enough – just to be able to hold him, kiss him. To share a bond with him she couldn’t remember having with anyone else before. It wasn’t perfect, but it was about as close to perfect as her life was ever going to get, she was sure.



With a smile, she looked down at the vampire happily dozing with his head resting against her stomach and raised a hand to brush her fingers over his tightly-restrained curls. Despite her many protestations to the contrary, he was still convinced they made him look like a ‘ponce’. But she didn’t mind anyway: she had her own ways of working those curls free, and the purr-like sounds that rumbled through his chest now were testament to the fact that she was able to do so without protest on his past.

“I think you were a cat in a past life,” she teased quietly, smiling as he growled at her lowly, “Okay, maybe a dog.”

He nipped at her stomach but then returned to his position, making a little hum of pleasure. She smiled too, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the pillows as his hand slipped just under her top, resting against her warm skin.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her stomach.

“Just for you,” she whispered and she felt him smile against her.

Suddenly he shifted upwards, resting beside her and leaning over to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

“What was that for?” she asked with a smile, raising her hand to his face.

“S’been too long already.”

“Like five minutes,” she teased and he grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose.

“Definitely too long.”

He kissed her again, mouth moving expertly against hers, tongue teasing her – but as always he pulled away before either of them could get too worked up. She had to admit, she was impressed with his self-control.



He settled beside her and she smiled, rubbing her head against him, tilting it back so she could see his face. He had closed his eyes and was running his fingers over her collarbone absently, a soft smile playing across his lips.

“Look at you, all blissed out.”

He smiled again and nodded.

“I’m so… perfectly happy right now,” he murmured lazily and she froze up. When he cracked an eye open, she narrowed her eyes at him and frowned.

“That’s really not funny.”

She started to roll away, but he caught her arm.

“Buffy, love, I’m sorry. Was only playing.”

Pouting slightly, she rolled onto her front, meeting his contrite gaze.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I did lose you like that,” she whispered, suddenly turning serious.

“Well, first of all, you wouldn’t lose me.”

“Spike-“

“Told you before, I’m me. Always have been, with the soul or without.”

“You honestly trying to tell me we’d be here if you didn’t have a soul?”

“Never know what fate brings.”

“So far, fate has not been bringing me puppies and kittens so I’m holding back the joy parade.”

He smiled and brushed a hand over her hair, smoothing it down over her back.

“Know it’s hard for you to believe this, love, but the soul makes no difference to me. I would lo- care about you even without it.”

She sighed, the mood turned sombre, and turned over to rest her head against his shoulder, her brows knitted in a frown.

“But it’s never gonna happen, kitten. We’re both too clever for that, yeah?” he soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm.

“I really hope so,” she whispered, burying her head against him, signalling that she didn’t want to continue this conversation. He complied and they fell into a companionable silence, wrapped up in each other’s arms.



They fell asleep and dozed for a while and when she woke, her stomach was growling for lunch. When Spike started to accompany her with his own hungry growl, she took the hint and with a laugh, reluctantly left the bed to fix some lunch for both of them. After they had eaten, they returned to the bedroom – it was the only place they dared to be together – and lay down facing each other on the bed.

“Spike?” she started, tracing a hand over his chest.

“Hmm?”

“Tell me something about you. Something no-one else knows.”

He raised a scarred eyebrow but when she raised pleading eyes to him, she saw him succumb almost instantly.

“Let me think…”

When he had still said nothing after a few minutes, she nudged him.

“Spike…”

He scowled at her but when she smiled, he softened, running his hand over her back.

“Well, you see this scar?” he asked, holding out his right arm and showing her a long thin scar on the underside, “Got it when I fell out off a horse. I was twelve.”

She smiled, raising a finger to his arm and tracing the scar.

“I can’t imagine you as a twelve-year-old.”

“I can imagine you. Little Goldilocks with all the boys wrapped around her little finger.”

She laughed and swatted him, resting her head against his chest.



“Tell me something else. Something big,” she whispered.

“Didn’t realise this was sharing time.”

“I want to know you as well as you know me,” she murmured, “And you’ve got a lot more years for me to learn about.”

He sighed but drew her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He hesitated for a moment longer, before finally speaking up.

“The night I was turned… I was at a party. And I decided it was the perfect opportunity to declare my love for this girl.”

“Was she pretty?” she couldn’t help asking and he chuckled against her.

“I thought she was. But then, I did have to wear glasses so maybe I was wrong.”

She smiled, curling up against him, feeling the low rumble of his voice as he continued.

“Well, let’s just say things didn’t go too well.”

“What happened?”

“Made a fool of myself, that’s what happened. She just looked down her stupid snooty little nose at me,” he explained bitterly, adding as an afterthought: “Bitch.”

She hugged him tighter, as if she could take away that old pain.

“I thought Dru was my salvation,” he continued in a low voice, “Little did I know it was out of the frying pan, into the fire.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was never good enough for Dru. As long as I wasn’t her precious Daddy…” he sighed and drew her close, burying his head against her, “But that’s old history. Let’s just forget it.”

She couldn’t forget though – she remembered the words he had said when this secret relationship had started: he had said he wanted to be good enough for her. She got the feeling it was an old insecurity and with his words now, she knew she was right. She pushed herself up to look at him, saw the shy uncertainty in his face and smiled softly.

“You’re more than good enough for me, Spike,” she whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips over his, “Hear me?”

He said nothing in reply but his hands twined in her hair and he kissed her hard, trembling, his mouth claiming her as his own. Something she was only too glad to succumb to.

Fear





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It was hard though, having to hide her true feelings for him all the time, from everyone: her mother, her friends, Giles. Sometimes she had the urge to just scream it to the heavens and damn the consequences. But fear held her back: if their true relationship were found out, they might be driven apart and that was something she couldn’t bear. So she lived in fear, worrying that any moment someone would see past their carefully constructed lies to the truth and all would be lost.

And no reassurance from Spike could completely take away the fear – because she knew that he shared her fear, even if he never said so. She sensed it in the way he kissed her so desperately when they were able to hide away together, sensed it in the way he held her tighter right before it was time to part and go back to living the illusion that they were just close friends, nothing more. Fear had worked its way into their world and there was nothing they could do to banish it because fear was very justified: despite their caution, close calls did happen, only heightening the fear that surrounded them.



She couldn’t stop kissing him. It was always like this on Mondays: time alone was rare to come by at the weekends, with her mother in the house, and so when Joyce returned to work, they were desperate to be alone. They had barely made it through the door to his bedroom before they clashed, hands fiercely grabbing at clothes and skin and hair as they kissed hungrily, trying to assuage a weekend’s worth of pent-up desire.

Somehow, they had ended up half-sprawled on the bed, legs hanging over the edge – but completely oblivious to anything but the taste of each other. She had one arm slung around his neck, the other tentatively unbuttoning his shirt and one leg wrapped around his, holding him against her tightly. He parted from her and she gasped for breath, and then let out a moan as his mouth went to her neck, cool against her flushed skin.

“God, Buffy,” he groaned, passing his tongue over her skin.

“I need to touch you,” she gasped, struggling with the buttons of his shirt and finally giving up and ripping them.

He pulled back a tiny way, watching her in a mixture of surprise and amusement at her impatience to have her hand on his cool, bare skin. As soon as she was touching him though, he closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers as she ran her fingers over his chest.

“Buffy,” he whispered, the word ghosting over her lips.

He was holding himself away now, every muscle tense, and somehow she forced her hands to stop.

“We have to stop, darling,” he whispered breathlessly, pressing chaste kisses to her jaw and cheeks and forehead.

“I know,” she panted, “But… God, I… I can’t.”

He made the effort then, removing himself from her and flopping down beside her, his shirt parted and revealing his pale skin to her.



She watched him for a moment, before shifting to rest her head against his chest, unable to resist pressing a kiss to his skin and smiling at his gasp. She made herself comfortable then and twined one arm around him, eyes closing, fear and desire and sadness warring inside her.

“Is it going to get any easier?” she whispered, fingers stroking his waist.

He said nothing but held her closer, brushing his lips over her hair.

“I wish it would, love.”

The future looked pretty bleak right about now and she sighed, screwing up her eyes and wishing she didn’t have to think about these things.

“If it’s too much, Buffy… I’d understand if you-“

She quickly sat up, eyes meeting his almost fiercely.

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence.”

He stopped himself, his eyes going soft, his hand reaching out to brush a hand over her hair.

“You could do so much better,” he whispered, not for the first time since their clandestine affair had started.

“No,” she answered firmly, “I’m not even going there. I want you. You, Spike. No-one else.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his tired eyes – neither of them was sleeping very well at the moment.

“And I want you, Buffy. I want you,” he emphasised, “But I can’t have you. And it’s not fair to you.”

“Stop it,” she said weakly, eyes tearing up, fingers reaching out to touch his jaw, “I don’t care. I just want what I can have with you. It’s enough.”



He softened with her distress, remorse colouring his expression.

“Buffy…”

“Don’t. Just kiss me.”

He caught her to him, one hand twined in her hair as he kissed her again desperately, their fears and hopes poured into the kiss. He pulled away and scattered kisses over her face, his voice a low murmur as he soothed her.

“My sweet, darling girl. What would I do without you?”

She leaned into his caresses and when his lips found hers again, she moaned and leaned into him, arms winding round him tightly as he tightened his grip on her, crushing her against his chest. She was heady with desire every time she kissed him but she had learnt to fight it now, to push it down and enjoy what little she could have. And it was enough. For now.

In one swift movement, he reversed their positions and now she could feel the whole length of his body pressed against her, could feel his desire for her, could feel the ragged unneeded breaths he took. She held him tighter, tongues battling as her hands ran down the full length of his bare back.

“Buffy?! Are you here?!”

They started apart guiltily at Xander’s raised voice downstairs and she scrambled free of him, smoothing clothes and hair in a panic.

“Oh God, oh God,” she whispered, wide eyes flying to Spike’s.

“Buffy? Spike?”

Willow was there as well and her breath caught in her panic.



Spike suddenly caught her arms, holding her still, forcing her gaze to his.

“Calm down,” he said firmly but softly.

“But they…”

“They haven’t seen anything. We’ll just get sorted and go down and see them. Say we were watching a film up here, yeah?”

She nodded helplessly, her eyes falling to his torn shirt.

“Your shirt.”

“It’s fine,” he soothed, getting quickly to his feet and throwing his shirt to the floor. He rifled through the drawers, pulling out a T-shirt and tugging it on quickly. He then turned to her and took her hands, guiding her to her feet. He ran both hands down her arms and brushed a kiss against her lips.

“Come on. It’s fine.”

“Buffy?! Are you here?”

She quickly hurried out of the room, Spike just behind her as she rushed down the stairs and found her friends waiting in the living room.



“There you are!” Xander exclaimed as they came in, her heart hammering in case they suspected what was going on.

“We- we were watching a movie,” she stuttered out.

Xander’s gaze went to the television next to him and Spike spoke up a moment later.

“Like it better upstairs. Draw the curtains… less chance of getting an unwanted suntan.”

Willow smiled gently and Xander nodded in understanding and she felt the constricted feeling around her chest fading.

“What are you doing here?” she asked calmly.

“Just came by to say ‘hi’.”

“Cool,” she said, nodding to the couch and settling on a chair herself, her heart finally returning to something like a normal speed and the fear dissipating. For now.

Caught



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It was Friday already, five days since their near escape with Xander and Willow and they had both been more on edge since then, alert to any possibility of being caught. Spending the day in Spike’s arms used to be a relaxing time for her, but now it was fraught with tension, and nothing they could do could take it away. It seemed nearly being caught had made them even more aware of just how risky this was.

She hated the way it plagued their time together though, hated the way she could see Spike listening just as intently as she when there was any sort of noise from outside. When she caught him – and herself - doing it for the fifth time, she got annoyed.

“This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed, startling him with her outburst and the fact that she grabbed his arm.

“Buffy?”

She pushed herself up onto her elbow and brought her lips to his, kissing him hungrily, hoping to distract them both. He stiffened in surprise for just a second before he let out a half-growl and tugged her against him, one hand at the back of her neck as he kissed her back sensuously.

She let herself relax into his embrace, let him work his very own magic that quickly had her forgetting about anything but the taste of him, the feel of his hard body under hers. She parted from him a long time later, gasping for breath as he tilted her chin back, his mouth playing over her neck. She could feel him forcing himself to calm down, his kisses turning soft, grazing.

“What was that about?” he murmured against her neck as she sagged against him, closing her eyes with a hum of pleasure as his lips moved over her skin.

“Tired of being afraid,” she answered absently, moaning lowly at his caresses, “Tired of worrying.”

He pulled back, cradling her face in his hands as he looked at her, smiling slightly.

“I know, love.”



She forced herself to relax and he followed her example. They stopped listening out for potential danger and muscles began to relax. She curled up against him and let herself enjoy the feel of his hand brushing over the small of her back.

“Spike… things are going to be okay, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” he answered lowly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Not gonna let anyone take you away from me.”

She smiled and curled up against him even more, eyes closing lazily as she rested her head in the curve of his shoulder, breathing in the smoky, musky scent of Spike.

“You smell good,” she murmured sleepily and he chuckled.

“Déjà vu.”

“Huh?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

He chuckled again and she raised her head, confused as he smiled at her warmly.

“A certain someone here got a bit drunk… said quite a few interesting things, as it happens.”

She was starting to understand now and she blushed helplessly as he laughed and continued.

“Something about how I was a better kisser than the poof in your dreams… and that I smelt good.”

“I don’t remember that,” she admitted with a grimace.

“Lightweight,” he teased, “Was right amusing though.”

She blushed and buried her head against him as he chuckled and pulled her close, rubbing his hands over her arms.



For the first time that week, they fell asleep together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. What they didn’t remember though was that Joyce was finishing work early that day.

“Buffy Anne Summers!”

The voice cut through her pleasant dream and she started awake.

“Is it time for school?” she murmured lazily, turning her gaze to her mother.

A second later, she realised exactly where she was and she bolted up, waking Spike with her sudden movement. Wide eyes flew between the bewildered vampire and her shocked mother and she stalled, heart hammering in her chest. Joyce looked between them several times, her expression unreadable, and then she turned her attention to Buffy.

“I want you both downstairs in five minutes with an explanation.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving them in stunned silence. She turned to Spike, biting her lip as he sat up, running a hand through his hair nervously. He glanced at her and his expression softened, one hand stroking her arm.

“Calm down,” he whispered, pressing his hand against her collarbone, “Your heart’s gonna burst.”

“Spike, she… God, what are we going to tell her?!” she asked in a panic.

He paused for a moment, twisting her hair absently between his fingers before meeting her worried gaze with a calm one.

“The truth.”



She couldn’t get her heart rate to slow down as she descended the stairs with Spike close behind, a hand just at her back. Her throat suddenly felt very dry and she could feel the sweat beading on her palms. Her mother was waiting in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, staring into space. She quickly turned to them as they came in though and Buffy had to avert her eyes, unable to meet her mother’s gaze.

They moved to sit opposite her mother on the other side of the counter and her heart just kept pounding away, as if she were about to undergo interrogation. But then, knowing her mother, it was always possible. Spike slid his hand into hers and she squeezed it tightly, wishing she could have his calm at this point.
She finally raised her eyes warily to her mother but Joyce’s expression was carefully guarded and she had no idea what was going through her mind.

“Now,” Joyce started softly, “I want an explanation of what I just walked in on. I know you’re close… but sharing a bed is another matter altogether.”

Her voice got stuck in her throat and she looked to Spike for help. He held her gaze for a long moment and then turned to her mother, steady as anything.

“I’m in love with your daughter, Joyce.”

Her world froze up for a moment and all she could do was stare at him, stunned by his words. She realised he was continuing and she forced herself to listen, watching him with wide eyes.

“Haven’t had a chance to tell her that yet,” he added with a wry smile, eyes just flicking to hers, “But I am.”

Joyce turned her gaze on her then but she could say nothing, eyes still fixed on Spike in wonder. He loved her. Was in love with her. It was too much to comprehend – how could he love her? She, who had proven how weak she was, who had hurt him, who could never match what he had with Dru.



“Buffy?” her mother called, snapping her back to reality, “Are you okay?”

She nodded and swallowed hard.

“I’m… I… Me and Spike are together.”

“I did sort of gather that,” her mother answered with a slight smile, gaze flicking to Spike and back again, before she turned serious.

“I have to admit, I saw this coming. And I’m happy for you, both of you.”

Her eyes went wide with surprise at her mother’s admission. Joyce then turned to Spike, her expression softening.

“There is one thing though. You know how much I care about you, Spike, but I… well, I’m afraid I can’t have you living under my roof if you and Buffy are… involved.”

“I understand,” he replied with a short nod, “I’ll start looking for somewhere to stay.”

Joyce nodded and then broke into a warm smile, directed at the two of them.

“Even though I worry… I’m glad you have each other,” she said genuinely, “You’ve both been happier lately and I guess now I know why.”

“You mean, no lecture?” Buffy spoke up.

“No, no lecture,” her mother replied with a soft smile, “You’re my daughter and I want you to be happy. And I don’t think you could have found a better man to make you happy.”

She sent a warm smile in Spike’s direction and he smiled back gently.

“No more sneaking around though,” she warned and they both nodded quickly.



She left them with a smile and as soon as she was gone, Spike turned to her with the shyest look she had seen on him in a while. He squeezed her hand in his and she raised wide eyes to his.

“Did you… did you mean it?” she got out.

He nodded and leant forward, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I love you, Buffy. I think I fell in love with you the minute I realised who it was looking after me.”

Her breath caught at his soft words but she smiled, leaning into his touch. He stroked a thumb over her cheek and she smiled again.

“You realise you’ve just made it about ten times harder to resist you?” she whispered, leaning into him.

He smiled, brushing his lips over hers, teasing her.

“Sorry.”

She smiled too and pressed her lips harder against his, sinking towards him as he kissed her gently. And she was certain she could feel it now: could feel the love he poured into his kiss.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the first time in my posting-life, I've caught up with myself on chapters and it's very scary. :-s From now on, everything's going to be brand new!

Change




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She hadn’t realised just how much one person knowing the truth could relieve the strain on her shoulders but she felt so much more relaxed as they headed out together for patrol, light-headed and happy. She still didn’t dare reach out and hold his hand like she wanted to, but they were walking close enough that every few steps, his hand would brush against hers. She turned and smiled widely, her heart hammering with his return smile.

Now she knew what he had been hiding from her – his love – she saw it in everything: every gesture, every look, every word. She was still reeling from the revelation, the idea that Spike could love her. Not that she could be really surprised – she was more than halfway there herself – but she still struggled with it. She thought maybe she ought to be scared – after all, the last time a vampire had fallen in love with her, problems had abounded – but with Spike, things were different. His love was of an entirely different ilk to Angel’s.

Even though she knew he was dying to hear the words returned, he did not pressure her, did not even mention the idea. With Angel, she had almost felt forced to return the words, especially towards the end of their relationship. Most importantly though, Spike’s love felt freeing, whereas Angel’s had been a cage; where Angel wanted to hold her and keep her safe, Spike wanted everything for her that she wanted herself. She was amazed to have earned his love but now she had it, nothing was going to take it away, she was certain of that.



They walked along in silence, exchanging shy smiles every now and again as they moved through Sunnydale’s graveyards. It was a quiet night and she was glad for it as it gave her more time to think, to process the events of the afternoon. She had forgotten about part of the conversation with her mother until Spike spoke up.

“What do you reckon?”

“Huh? What?” she got out, snapping out of her daze, turning to him in confusion.

“That crypt,” he said, nodding in the direction of one just to their right, “What do you think?”

“Erm, it’s nice?” she commented, still confused.

He smiled and took her hand, pulling her towards it and inspecting the heavy door. It was open, luckily, and he pushed it open, squeezing her hand and guiding her in behind him. He stopped in the middle of the dim room, looking around, nodding slightly to himself.

“Spike? What’s going on?” she asked, frowning at him in confusion.

“Need a place to stay, don’t I?” he reminded her with a smile, moving close and wrapping an arm around her. She had forgotten about her mother’s ultimatum of sorts and looked around at the dusty, cobwebbed crypt.

“Here?!”

“S’nice and cosy. I like it.”

“It’s a crypt.”

“Yeah, and? I’m a vampire… it works.”

“I thought maybe you’d get an apartment or something.”

He regarded her for a moment, tugging her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Like living close to the ground. And don’t have the ready cash for anything like that.”



She nodded and moved out of his embrace, stepping forward and running an unimpressed gaze over the dark room. Spike stepped up behind her, running both hands down her arms and drawing her back against his chest.

“Buffy?”

“Do you have to leave?” she murmured sadly.

“You know I have to, love,” he soothed, running his hands over her arms as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, “Your mum’s right.”

“But it’s not fair,” she sighed, knowing she sounded childish but not caring.

She heard him chuckle and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her tight against him.

“S’a pretty good idea though, eh, love?” he prompted, “Might make things easier.”

She sighed and turned in his embrace, resting her head against his chest.

“But I’m going to miss having unlimited Spike on tap,” she murmured with a slight smile, hands resting on his chest.

“I’m gonna miss you too, sweetheart,” he replied with a laugh, tucking one finger under her chin and guiding her head upwards to meet his gaze, “But s’not like we won’t see each other every day.”

“You promise?” she asked, softening as he brushed a hand over her hair and smiled down at her softly.

“I promise.”

She smiled sadly and leant up to meet his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and losing herself in his taste.



Now she was perched on a sarcophagus, watching him with an affectionate smile as he inspected every inch of the crypt, already planning his cosy little place.

“Hey, there’s a downstairs.”

He disappeared before her eyes and she got to her feet, moving over to where he had disappeared and finding a hole in the floor.

“Spike?”

“Access to the caves down here,” he called back, his voice echoing below, “Nice and big down here.”

The next second, he had jumped up through the hole and was right in front of her, startling her as he caught her around the waist.

“Room for a nice big bed. Just in case I get any visitors, you know?”

“Oh?” she replied flirtatiously, leaning into him, “Expecting plural visitors, huh?”

“Well, s’hard to fight the girls off, you know,” he murmured with a smirk and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll fight them off for you.”

He laughed and drew her close, brushing his lips over her before pulling back to look at her.

“Only one girl for me, really. And she’s right here.”

She was sure, as the Slayer, she should be immune to swooning – but apparently not. She leant into him again, drawing his mouth down to hers and kissing him hungrily.



She stumbled backwards into a sarcophagus, drawing him with her and letting out a little moan as his body pressed against hers. He flattened one hand on the ledge and twined his other arm around her, holding her against him tightly as he kissed her, teasing her with tantalising sweeps of his tongue, before finally deepening their kiss, his tongue diving inside her mouth and drawing another moan from her. She clung to him, pressing herself against him, urging him closer.

The ledge of the sarcophagus was digging into her back and she wriggled uncomfortably, succeeding only in causing a moan in her vampire. In one swift motion – never breaking their kiss – she lifted herself onto the sarcophagus and he settled between her legs almost instantly, his kiss growing hungry, his hand trailing up her back and twining in her hair. She parted from him breathlessly, arching her neck back as his mouth fell to her skin, teasing her with soft kisses and gentle nips.

“What you do to me,” he murmured against her skin, sucking hard on the junction between neck and shoulder and drawing a helpless moan from her.

She wrapped her legs around him instinctively, holding him close as she found his mouth again with hers, her arms tightening around his neck, plastering herself to him. And then, Spike was breaking away, holding his body away from hers, guiding her legs from around his hips. When his dark gaze met hers, she pouted but complied, knowing without words that they had to stop.

“Guess we should get back to patrol,” she said lightly, brushing a chaste kiss over his lips before pushing him backwards and getting down from her perch. She smiled softly and turned to go but he caught her, drawing her back into his embrace.

“I love you,” he whispered, his mouth pressed against her forehead.

Before she could say anything, he pulled away and smiled wryly.

“Come on, let’s go find something to kill.”

She smiled and fell into step beside him, forcing her body to accept the withdrawal of his kisses and caresses.

Confrontation



Four chapters in one day- that must be a record :-)

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She had helped Spike move into the crypt a week ago now and she missed him like mad. She had never been one of those girls that had to be with their boyfriend every minute of every day, but with Spike it was different: he had been her friend, her constant companion, and she missed having him around. And she hated having to wait to see him.

Not that the wait was ever more than a few hours – most of those spent sleeping – because she spent most days over at his crypt and he spent most evenings at the house with her and her mother. Her mother often teased them about it but she didn’t care – she missed him when he wasn’t around and the very simple solution to that problem was making sure he was around lots. He certainly had no complaints and, if not for the partial secrecy of their relationship, things were great.

Tonight was going to be testing though: they were off out to the Bronze with her friends. Which sounded easy enough, except they were used to being around her mother, who knew about their relationship; now, they would have to spend the whole evening hiding their feelings for each other. It didn’t exactly sound like fun, but if it meant she got to see her friends and spend time with Spike, she guessed it was something she’s just have to deal with.



Of course, as soon as she set foot in the Bronze, she couldn’t help remembering the last time she had been here and she grimaced. Spike’s hand at her back set her in motion again but as they reached her friends, his reassuring touch disappeared and she began to realise that this night was going to be more difficult than she had thought. At least this time she had someone to talk to and didn’t feel like the odd one out.

If anything, her friends seemed like the odd ones out on this occasion: she spotted several confused looks when she and Spike shared a private joke. It was to be expected though- after all, she’d spent every day with him for the last few months, whereas she had seen her friends but rarely. She made an effort to include them though, and she saw them relax somewhat.

“So then this vampire tripped up and Spike fell over him,” she recounted, smiling widely as the vampire glared at her, “And they both came back up covered in mud.”

Her friends laughed and she sent a wide smile in Spike’s direction, her hand just squeezing his leg under the table.

“Want me to tell them about the time you refused to fight because you had new shoes?” he remarked and she poked her tongue out as her friends laughed.

Under the table, his hand caught hers where it rested on his leg and he twined his fingers in hers. She sent him a quick look but then turned back to her friends.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun on patrol then,” Willow exclaimed.

“Well, yeah,” she replied with a shrug, “Nice to have some company… even if he does like to think he’s better at my job than I am.”

She sent Spike a pointed look and he smirked.

“Just jealous, love.”

She rolled her eyes and her friends laughed again – and she started to relax and started to worry less about hiding from them.



When her friends went to dance, they were left alone and Spike instantly leant in close, his breath ghosting over her neck.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he murmured, letting his lips brush over her ear.

“Don’t think so,” she answered quietly, trying not to show just how much he affected her with simple words.

“You look… ravishing.”

She smiled coyly and turned to face him, running a hand over the collar of his silk shirt.

“You’re looking pretty ravishing yourself,” she said quietly, eyes flicking to the dancefloor and then back to his.

“So how soon can we leave?” he asked.

She laughed and nudged him with her elbow, the crackling tension broken for now.

“We’ve been here for less than an hour!”

“Miss you though,” he murmured, close to her ear, his hand at the small of her back and just slipping under her top, “Want you all to myself.”

She was sure he had a very good idea of the effect of his words – chose them because of it – but it made her uncomfortable with desire. She too wanted him all to herself, away from prying eyes – but it had been so long since she had seen her friends.

“A little while longer,” she murmured and he gave in, rolling his eyes playfully and leaning back in his chair, his arm slung over the back of hers.



The gang returned a few songs later and they reluctantly put a bit of distance between them, looking up as her friends sat down around the table.

“Good dancing?” she asked with a smile.

Willow nodded enthusiastically and Buffy smiled at Oz’s simple nod.

“Guess who we saw?” Xander remarked.

“Who?”

“That college guy. You know, the one you were hanging out with that time. What was his name again?”

“Toby, wasn’t it?” Willow added.

For a moment, what they were saying didn’t sink in – she had frozen up with Xander’s first words – but she quickly shook it away, throwing a worried look at Spike before turning to them.

“Todd,” she answered quietly, glancing at Spike again, worried by the muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Yeah. He was dancing with some girl,” Willow explained, almost sympathetically, “I thought you two were getting, you know, with the friendly.”

“Erm, well, you know…” she answered uncertainly.

“Oh hey, there he is!” Xander remarked, pointing towards the dancefloor.

Before she could do anything, Spike was up and out of his seat and with a twisted smile at her bewildered friends, she rushed after him.



She couldn’t reach him before he had Todd by the collar though, almost nose to nose with the other man, his expression flooded with anger.

“You know, I should teach you a bloody lesson,” Spike growled just as she reached them, “Wonder how good you’d be chatting up the girls when I rip out your throat.”

She stepped forward quickly and put a hand on Spike’s arm.

“Spike,” she said quietly.

“Buffy?” Todd piped up but when she glared at him, he sensibly stayed quiet, squirming under Spike’s angry gaze and trying to free himself from Spike’s grip on his shirt.

“Is there a problem here?”

She realised then that half of the club was focussed on them and turned to the bouncer with a pacifying smile.

“It’s fine,” she said sweetly, tightening her grip on Spike’s arm, “We’re going.”

“I think you’d better.”

Spike didn’t budge for long seconds, eyes fixed on the younger man with rage, but finally he released Todd with a slight shove. She quickly grabbed his arm and used her Slayer strength to guide him towards the door of the club, all eyes on them. She practically dragged him outside and they stopped just along the alleyway.



She just stood and watched him for long moments, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m not going to apologise,” he finally said, “Poof deserved it.”

“Didn’t ask you to, did I?” she countered, softening and taking a step towards him, one hand on his chest, “What are you doing, you crazy vampire?”

“Scaring the stupid little bastard, hopefully,” he answered, his voice still tinged with anger, “That’ll teach him to go anywhere near my girl.”

She couldn’t exactly be mad when he said things like that but she was also worried at just how angry he still was.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” she said softly, her hand still resting on his chest, “I am your girl.”

“He hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, it was my own fault,” she answered sadly, “Much as I’d like to blame him for it.”

“Ponce still took advantage. You’re only young… he was older and he knew what he was doing.”

“Spike, you do realise how hypocritical that sentence was?” she commented with a smile but when he tensed, she continued quickly, “I just mean… you’re like a hundred years older than me.”

“I wouldn’t force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

Now, how to explain that she hadn’t exactly been forced without dredging up painful memories? Luckily, she was saved from having to answer by the timely appearance of her friends.



They were all staring at Spike and she stepped back, moving her hand from him.

“Man, what was that?” Xander asked in shock.

Spike straightened, jutting his chin out defiantly but she placed a hand on his arm and he backed down just a tiny bit.

“I… well, you know me and Todd were sort of… friendly…” she got out reluctantly, feeling Spike tense underneath her hand, “Well, erm, he… I mean, we-“

“Poof used her and then dumped her,” Spike bit out angrily, shaking her hand off and leaning back against the wall, pulling out a cigarette. Her friends turned horrified looks on her and she smiled wryly.

“Something like that,” she admitted.

“Buffy, why didn’t you tell us?” Willow asked.

“It was kinda… embarrassing. And you know… not with the fun.”

There was a moment’s silence as she watched her friends process this new information. Xander turned slightly and spoke up, his words directed at Spike.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bite that jerk.”

She and Spike were both surprised by his words but then Spike’s surprise settled into anger.

“Tempting, ‘cept that’d be too good for the rotten bastard. I’m not the torturing kind but it’s looking like a good idea right now.”

“Okaaay,” she intervened, pressing a hand to his chest again, “Calm down.”

Spike relaxed a tiny amount at her touch and she smiled up at him shakily.

“I appreciate that you want to inflict, like, major bodily damage on that jerk… but I really just want to forget about it,” she said and she saw him soften, “And if he does need his ass kicking… I’ll be the one doing it.”



Spike paused for a moment but then nodded uncertainly.

“Whatever you want, love.”

She smiled at him softly and quickly turned back to her friends, hoping that her feelings weren’t as blatantly obvious as they seemed to her.

“Well, I guess that’s the fun over. We better not come back in.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Willow suggested.

“No, it’s fine. You guys go have fun. We’ll go patrol.”

“Too bloody right,” Spike muttered, throwing his cigarette to the floor, “I need to kill something.”

She sent him a smile and then quickly said her goodbyes to her friends. They headed back inside and she and Spike moved along the alleyway together, headed for the street. Before they could reach it though, she pulled him aside, watching him with worried eyes.

“You’re not going to be sneaking out and killing him later, are you?”

He sighed and drew her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“I want to,” he admitted, “Want to make him sorry for ever touching you.”

“Just forget about him,” she whispered, raising her eyes to his, “You’re the one that gets to touch me now.”

She laced her fingers in his to emphasize her point and he smiled ever so slightly, running a hand over her arm.

“I love you, woman.”

She smiled and leaned into him, kissing him softly. When he began to kiss her back, she could feel the anger and jealousy radiating through him and she clung to him tighter, kissing him back and hoping to get her message through that way. And then, she felt him start to relax and he pulled back, his hands running over her back.

“Still want to kill something,” he said with a half-smile and she laughed.

“Okay then.”

She turned and looped her arm through his, setting him in motion again.

Passion



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The anger and jealousy hadn’t completed subsided though, she realised. And when they were finally alone, back in his crypt, he tugged her to him almost roughly, his mouth plundering hers. She moaned against him, succumbing to his passion and letting him do whatever he wanted to take away the pain and anger. His mouth moved to her neck and she moaned again, arching against him with the pull of his mouth and the scrape of his teeth.

It was only after a few moments that she realised he was marking her, marking her as his. It should have repelled her – but instead it sent warmth like she had never felt flooding through her. He must have sensed it because he pulled back, eyes dark with desire but watching her warily. He went to take a step back but she caught him by the shirt.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His eyes got impossibly darker and she tugged him towards her, meeting his lips in a hungry kiss. His arms wrapped around her tightly – almost too tightly – as he kissed her back, teeth catching her lips as their desire threatened to overwhelm them. He forced himself away – where he got the willpower from she didn’t know but she would have liked some herself.

All she could do was stare at him, eyes glazed with passion, her hands clenched by her side, her chest heaving.

“Buffy?” he called quietly.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she whispered, adding a ‘please’ in a whisper when she saw his hesitation.

He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, letting him lead her to the newly installed trapdoor. He opened it and guided her down the ladder he had added, his hand tightening on hers when he thought she might trip.



He released her at the bottom of the ladder and a moment later, candlelight began to fill the room as he lit the numerous candles surrounding what had become his bedroom. He came to her again and took her hand, leading her over to the bed and sitting down beside her. He looked at her in silence for a long time, running his fingers over her face, and then he leant forward and kissed her.

The kiss quickly turned almost frantic and she twisted her hands in his clothes, needing to be closer, needing to touch him.

“Spike,” she gasped as his mouth went to her neck again, continuing his possessive caresses.

“Mine,” he growled against her skin and she nodded helplessly, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him back on the bed with her.
Their mouths collided again and she struggled with the buttons of his shirt. His hand rested just under her top, on her waist, not daring to venture anywhere else. She finally managed to tug the last button of his shirt undone and he pulled back to look at her with hungry eyes as she guided it over his shoulders.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, meeting his gaze squarely, and she saw him shudder as his eyes fell shut. A moment later, he was kissing her again, only slightly less franticly.



They had to stop, she knew they did – but she couldn’t. Even when she realised that maybe his self-control was weakened after being confronted with the reality of her dalliance with Todd, she couldn’t stop.

“Spike,” she breathed against him, her fingers running over the hard planes of his torso.

He groaned, pressing himself against her, his hand shaking where it rested against her.

“Please,” she whispered, writhing underneath him.

“Oh God,” he groaned, “I… I need to touch you, Buffy.”

She pushed him away and his eyes went wide as her hands went to her top, tugging it off impatiently and discarding it. Sitting back on his heels, he ran an unsteady hand over her stomach and she inhaled sharply at the feel of his hand on her bare skin.

“Stop me,” he murmured helplessly, his fingers trailing up her sternum, his eyes flicking to her almost-bared chest and then to hers.

“I don’t want to.”

He groaned again and kissed her passionately, one hand moving to cup her breast as she strained against him, urging him closer. He trailed kisses over her jaw and down to her collarbone and she twisted, pressing kisses to his shoulder, trailing her fingers over his back, grinding herself against him. Suddenly, he had her hands pinned above her head and she was looking up at him, heady with desire, her body screaming for his touch.

“Spike…”

“You gotta stop touching me or I won’t be able to… I can’t…”

“I want you,” she breathed and she saw him visibly struggling to hold himself back.

“We can’t, love. S’too dangerous.”



He hesitated a moment, looking down at her as she helplessly writhed and he released one wrist, running his hand down her arm and over her chest.

“Let me make you feel good,” he murmured huskily, “Take away the ache.”

All she could do was whimper his name, arching into his touch, her head thrown back with pleasure. She had never been as aroused as she was right now and she was silently damning gypsies all over the world. She was almost too far gone to care about the consequences.

“Spike,” she moaned, her body straining towards his.

He shifted then, moving just to the side of her and taking away the delicious weight of him on her. She turned her head and frowned, thinking that he was too far away as he studied her. Suddenly growing self-conscious, she brought an arm up to cover her chest. He caught her arm though and moved it, smiling softly.

“Don’t… don’t you want me?” she whispered.

“Of course I want you, sweetheart,” he answered, eyes darkening as they swept over her, “Want you bad. But you know we can’t risk it.”

“I want you,” she moaned, reaching out for him.

He moaned at her gentle touch on his chest and pressed her hand against him. He dipped his head then and kissed her, teasing her with his tongue. She was so distracted by his mouth, she barely noticed his hand until he ran it up her leg, pushing her skirt up. She froze for a split second but then relaxed, desperate for his touch.



She kissed him harder, clinging to him, one hand running over his torso as he teased her with gentle touches to her thighs. When his fingers ghosted over her underwear though, she broke away from him with a gasp and quickly drew him to her again. He groaned against her mouth and in one swift motion, he dipped his hand inside her panties. She broke away again and threw her head back with a moan, baring her neck to his mouth. His hand was so cool against her, his fingers finding spots even she didn’t know about and making her tense and squirm under him.

“Spike,” she moaned throatily.

When a finger delved inside, she froze up, her whole body taut with anticipation.

“Oh God.”

“God,” he echoed with a growl, “You’re so hot… so hot and tight.”

He kissed her again, slowly this time, his tongue mirroring the movements of his fingers – and driving her wild. One hand twined in his hair, holding him close while her other hand gripped his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. Her mind was a blur of pleasure and all she could do was cling to him helplessly, letting him work this magic over her.

“Spike,” she gasped, sensation flooding through her.

His eyes met hers in a blaze of hungry blue that took her breath away.

“I love you,” he growled and she cried out as his words pushed her over the edge.



Even as she was coming down from her high, she realised that things would get harder now; that keeping their hands off each other was going to turn into a real challenge. Her mind was still too numb to think about it properly though and she lolled against him, her breathing still calming down as he ran his hands gently over her back.

“That was… wow,” she breathed.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Glad to hear it.”

She was silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of his bare chest against her, his hands against her back.

“You know, if that was supposed to stop me wanting you, it didn’t work.”

“No?” he asked, pulling back to smile at her.

She shook her head and leant in to kiss him gently.

“Makes me want you even more,” she whispered shyly, trailing her fingers over his chest and down to his stomach, “Do you want me to…?”

“You’re going to kill me,” he moaned, eyes closing in pleasure as his hands closed around hers and pulled them up to his chest again.

“You want me to go home?” she teased and he pulled her close again, arms tightening around her.

“Not yet. Need to remind you a bit more that you’re mine.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head just under his chin and relaxing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It only took me 42 chapters, but I think I've finally earnt my R-rating! :-)