Chapter Eight


I know! Two chapters in one day. Look at me go.


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After her extended nap earlier in the day, she was still wide awake as the night progressed and although her instinct was to go on the hunt, she stayed home. To be more precise, she stayed with Spike. The blood and the rest were working their magic on him and he was improving hour by hour now. Even the large bruise around his eye had faded to a slight shadow now, and she was relieved to see it. To think it was only yesterday she had practically dragged him across town.

Now, he was sitting up on her bed, relaxed and looking more like himself as he tucked his arms behind his head. She sat on the bed at a slight distance, her legs crossed, a smile on her face as she laid down her hand of cards.

“Ha, a royal flush!”

With a raised eyebrow, Spike conceded defeat, throwing his cards down on the bed.

“I should never have taught you poker.”

She smiled widely and gathered the cards up, shuffling them expertly.

“What do I win?” she asked with a grin.

“What do you want?”

His simple question sparked tension between them and she held his gaze for a long, silent moment before forcing herself to look away.

“I’ll think of something,” she commented lightly, focussing her gaze on her hands.

Spike said nothing in answer and she went about dealing another hand, giving a tiny little smile at just how shyly they were both acting around each other. It was idiocy but she couldn’t seem to stop it – nor could she prevent the numerous blushes he had already provoked by the simplest of comments. It was driving her crazy – but there was no way she was going to talk about it. Not with Spike. Oh no.



After several hands played out in silence, their game tapered off naturally and she sat staring out of the window, helplessly searching for something to say. When Spike cleared his throat, she turned to him expectantly and he smiled shyly, before speaking up.

“I could do with some fresh air.”

“Good idea!” she chimed in, diving to her feet.

Spike’s progress to his feet was much slower and several times, she went to help him, but held herself back – sensing that he didn’t want his weakness played up. When he took his first shaky step though, she couldn’t help stepping forward as he wavered and he smiled wryly, draping his arm around her shoulders.

“You tell anyone I needed your help and I rip your throat out,” he warned weakly, drawing a smile from her as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“You’re hurt, Spike,” she whispered, “You’re allowed to ask for help, you know.”

He met her gaze in silence and she looked away awkwardly, that bright gaze unnerving her. She felt his hand just graze her hair but then he held on tight to her shoulder, shifting forward hesitantly.



They made their way through the quiet house and out on to the back porch, where she helped him to sit on the step. She sat down beside him and they stared out at the garden in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

“We’ve spent a lot of time here,” Spike spoke up, something almost wistful about his tone.

“We have,” she agreed, glancing at him before looking back out across the garden. She thought of the time he had joined her here after she had heard about her mother’s illness and she turned to him curiously.

“Do you remember when you came to me here? When I was upset because of my mom?”

“I remember,” he murmured quietly, turning to meet her gaze.

“Why did you come? I never knew… I was a complete bitch to you. I…” she trailed off, remembering how she had pushed him to the ground, how she had thrown money at him as if he was a thing, a monster with no feelings.

“I came to kill you,” he answered after a pause, drawing her surprised gaze to his, “Got myself a shotgun and everything. Convinced myself I was going to put an end to it, once and for all.”

“What happened?” she whispered.

“Found you out here… looking lost.”

He tilted his head, regarding her tenderly.

“I think that was when I truly fell in love with you,” he continued softly.

She shifted uncomfortably but could not draw her eyes from his, amazed as always at the depth of emotion she found there.



She finally dragged her eyes from his and fixed her gaze on the garden once more, both of them letting out a simultaneous breath.

“Heard another girl’s coming tomorrow?” Spike spoke up after a while, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, they’re pouring in now. Giles is out gathering them… and probably scaring the hell out of the poor girls.”

He laughed and she flashed him a smile, before turning serious.

“This is going to be big,” she whispered.

“From beneath you it devours.”

She shivered involuntarily at the words and she felt his hand brush her arm. She glanced at him and forced a weak smile.

“Just another apocalypse to add to the list, huh?”

“Sure,” he agreed, pulling his hand back and linking his hands together.

“I’ll try not to die this time.”

Her quip didn’t quite amuse him as planned and the look of pain he flashed her quickly silenced her.

“Anyway, I’ve got a bunch of inexperienced girls to worry about before I even think about worrying about me,” she got out quickly, hoping to cover up the tension her insensitivity had caused.

“They’ll need more training,” Spike commented.

“I know,” she sighed, turning to him brightly a few seconds later as a thought occurred to her, “Oh, we could train them.”

“You think that’s going to be allowed?” Spike asked incredulously, “I’m dangerous, remember?”



She rolled her eyes and smiled at him softly before replying.

“You’re not dangerous.”

“Hey!”

She gave him a pointed look and his outrage softened into affection.

“Thanks.”

She turned towards him and examined him in silence for a long pause before she replied.

“I trust you, Spike. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

He was silent for a moment, but she could tell by his expression what her words meant to him. She smiled gently and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it in hers.

“S’good to know,” he finally choked out, returning her squeeze, his eyes dropping to focus on their joined hands. Pretending that it was no big deal, she turned back to the garden, keeping her hand in his, silently enjoying the feel of his cool fingers wrapped around hers.