Chapter Nine:






A decorated wall filled Buffy's vision the instant she stirred awake. Right next to it were thick blue drapes that left the room dim. Her eyes observed the small, almost-empty room that certainly wasn't hers. She was curled into a ball on a comfortable couch with her head buried in a crumpled comforter, her back curved and her feet glued under her thighs. Her dried out locks were spread on her neck and extended to her naked back.

She twitched her nose when the end of the blanket, which entirely covered her body, rubbed exasperatingly against it. Her throat felt dry and she was unable to breathe through her nose, all signs of a cold, which she had anticipated. The fact that she was naked under the blanket didn't help matters.

She startled when the door to the room opened with a jerk and revealed a clothed and tidy Spike, holding a tray. "Rise and shine," he said cheerfully, kicking the door shut behind him.

She pushed herself up slowly, and her left hand clutched the blanket to keep her nudity in check. "Where are my clothes?"

He pointed at the neatly folded clothes on top of a wooden chair. "Had some lad wash and dry them up," he said as he placed the tray on a table next to the chair. Before she was able to see what was on it, his back stood between her and the tray, blocking the view.

She was about to ask how she had gotten here but a sudden urge to sneeze got in the way. Sneezing in a room that lacked Kleenex was a bad idea she had no control over. When Spike turned around, she greeted him with a helpless stare as her right hand covered her running nose. He reached with his hand to the tray and then a tissue appeared at her sight. Once she was done blowing as much as she could out of her nose, she noticed the cup of hot tea that was handed to her.

She cast him a grateful smile and held the hot cup close to her face. Vapors rose up and danced before her eyes. They gradually rose to the highest point they were able to reach before they began to disappear completely.

She took a sip and regarded Spike warily. He poured some blood in a cup before returning the bag to the small fridge in the corner, and then kicked off his boots and sat on another chair, propping his legs on the table. His deliberately casual movements made her remember last night. She didn't need to ask how she had gotten here. What she couldn't get was how Spike was able to get her tea? It wasn't like pubs served it, right?

"So, about last night…" she started, not sure how to finish that sentence and instead lowering her gaze to her tea. They'd had sex. It had been so long since their last time, she never thought she'd go there after the bathroom incident. Initiating it, after everything they'd gone through? She'd lost her mind. Right now, she desperately wanted to discuss it. They had never really done that, discussing sex afterwards. They usually just did it again, though she doubted it was the same case now.

"What we do best," he said in an absentminded way that had her head snap to him, feeling a sudden lump in her throat. That last year they had in Sunnydale was them at their best. That night when he had held her in his arms, the only one there by her side, when all her loved ones didn't believe in her anymore.

She never thought she would live to see the day when she would be the one to get emotional about them. Never thought she would be the one to see beyond the physical, itching for him to see that they were more than that.

Anger rose inside her in waves until the cup in her hands started to shake. She set it down on the floor, and then headed for her clothes, still using the blanket to cover herself up. What was she doing here anyway? She should be back at her apartment with her daughter. She should be visiting the castle, checking on her squad. She should put a stop to the way she was acting, stop reverting to old behavior.

She grabbed her leather coat and frowned at how trimly it was cleaned. "Shouldn't there be a receipt to this?"

"I took care of it," Spike said.

Blood rushed to her cheeks when she noticed her clean panties. Spike took care of everything, all right. "So," she started, sounding a little aggravated, as she put on her underwear. "You carried me and my clothes all the way to your little pub?" She glanced at him and saw him nod while still slurping down his blood. "And that was your noble way to save me from the future humiliation of being caught naked in public?" Her jeans felt a little too tight; Spike's errand boy was apparently unaccustomed to washing denims.

She heard him gulp the last drops of blood before he answered gently, "Swore never to hurt you, luv." Was it the first time he'd called her that since they'd met again? She couldn't remember.

"And you're doing a pretty good job at that," she muttered under her breath. Was it her or did her shirt get smaller? She almost ripped it when getting her arm inside the sleeve, then she figured out she was wearing it backwards. She shook the shirt off in exasperation.

"Something wrong?" he asked in a tone that sounded concerned. Concerned about what? Her inability to wear her clothes like a normal person? Thinking her brain cells must have been damaged by the rainy night?

She turned around, angry and hurt, clutching her dangling shirt in her hand. "Obviously not with me!"

He frowned and slowly licked the blood moustache above his lips. He said nothing as he gazed at her in confusion.

She shook her head and started to put on her shirt. "This thing," she pointed with her chin between her and him, "as well as last night's sex is not working for me." She slipped into her coat and crossed her arms, casting him a stare. "Next time I have sex will be when I'm in a 'relationship.' I'm gonna have a fresh start. Logical right start."

Throughout her ramble, Spike's gaze shifted from bewilderment to a frown to an eye roll, and then landed on a look of sarcasm. "It wasn't me who started jumping the other's bones last night."

She felt herself blush, but kept her hard stare. "Which was a big mistake on my part."

Spike's face hardened at that. "So, in conclusion to that waffle about a 'fresh' start, you're gonna get yourself another boy toy."

Her lips set in a firm, thin line. "You know what? I think it's time I play it smart." With a pointed gaze, she added, "for Andrea's sake."

His eyes flashed yellow for a second before returning to their natural blue. "Right." He snorted. "You're gonna shag a bloke you feel nothing for." He set his mug on the table, and the look in his eyes was filled with ridicule and confidence. She wanted to grab her cup and hurl the tea in his face to wipe away that cocky expression.

She twisted her lips instead. "Nothing was never something I felt for Xander."

"Can you really say that you see him as more than a chum?" There was a challenge in his eyes that made her feel tired all of a sudden.

"That's none of your business." She wearily started to head to the door, feeling the air being sucked out of the room.

"Because you can't."

She stopped, throwing her head back and releasing a sigh. "Maybe I wanna start a normal life."

"Yeah, you do."

"Things changed, Spike," she said acerbically, and turned around to find him standing now. He wasn't casual anymore; he was actually Spike. Passion, jealousy, and fury were right there shining unmistakably in those scorching blue eyes. Unfortunately, she was too angry to care at this point.

"Things as in situations, yes, they always do. But not you," he said. As if they'd gone back in time, Buffy could see herself in her bathroom with Spike standing there, trying to convince her that she loved him. That he felt her loving him when they were together. Why couldn't he feel it now when it was actually true?

Her jaw twitched, and she gazed down at the floor before she turned around and continued her path to the door.

Spike scoffed. "That's pathetic."

She stopped again, but didn’t turn to him this time. "At least I know he'll never walk away."

There was no reply, and she was sure there was a flicker of hurt in his eyes. Good, she thought; he deserved it. She walked out lifelessly, not sure if Spike had called out her name, and completely dismissed the people that were sitting at the bar. She didn’t regain feeling until she was outside the pub. The sun that shined up in the sky didn't bring any warmth to the freezing street, and Buffy hugged her coat closer, forcing herself not to glance back.



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"Hey, you okay?"

Cloudy thoughts about Spike and what had happened vanished at the sound of Xander's relieved and worried voice. She raised her gaze to meet his eye, which reflected those same emotions, and realized she had been out all night, returning home the next day without any warning. Her hand went straight to her pocket and acknowledged the lack of her cell phone. She figured she had forgotten it in her bedroom. It was a much better thought than her leaving it at Spike's, or that Spike stole it from her pocket, or the possibility that it was on the street, ruined because of the rain, and Spike hadn't noticed it lying there.

"Where's Andy?" The question popped from her tongue before she even thought it.

Xander ignored her question and held her shoulders as he checked her for any injury. He looked confused when he noticed how clean and tidy her clothes were. "Are you…?"

"Is she in your room?" She interrupted, heading straight to Xander's room. She pushed the door open, but there was no one in there.

"Don't worry, Renée is with her." Xander followed her, holding his cell phone and punching in a number.

Buffy felt bewildered at his answer until she recalled that Renée was Xander's choice to baby-sit Andrea amongst all the Slayers back in the castle. Xander had rented an apartment on their floor for Renée to be as close to them as possible while still maintaining her privacy.

"Yeah, she's home, Leah. Everything's fine."

She jumped a little when Xander spoke. Everyone was worried about her. They had probably sent some groups out searching for her. She took a few steps to her bedroom and peered inside. Her cell phone was on her bed as she'd guessed. She abruptly sneezed, remembering her cold, and took a tissue from her dresser next to the door.

Hearing Xander finish the call, she came out of her room and tried to hide her anxiety. "I was fighting this demon…" she hastily attempted to explain, "and…"

"And then you slept in a pub," Xander finished her lie with a truth, and her eyes widened in panic. "When it got past midnight, I asked the girls at Central Command to locate you. They found you in that Little Bow Wow pub."

Right. They didn't need to send groups to search for her; they already had the equipment that made it effortless to find her. Her lips were set in a thin line, unsure if Xander knew that she was in Spike's room- or that Spike was even back. Buffy figured they couldn't possibly have pictures of her and Spike inside the pub. They needed a camera for that, so maybe, and that was a hopeful maybe, they hadn't seen her with Spike, and had only located her place.

"Were you with someone there?" Xander asked, his tone quizzical but his question easing her worry. He didn't know about Spike, unless that was a trick question. When she didn't answer, he bit his lip, his questioning stare dissolving into a tender one. "Look, do you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't… I don’t think so."

There was that look of disappointment from yesterday mirrored in his face again. She couldn't really blame him, since over the past couple of years, they had became closer than they ever were. She told him everything, and he told her everything. The fact that she wasn't telling him anything in the past few weeks must have been really hurtful.

"Guess what I was watching last night?"

His question snapped her back to reality, and her eyes followed him as he turned his back and walked to the living room. He sat on the sofa and shot her a forced smile before he turned on the TV. It hit her then why she'd started getting closer to him in the past two years. It wasn't the shared grief; it was that he'd learned to stop pressing her to open up. Spike did the same; he never asked questions, just read her so well that he didn't need to. Xander, however, didn't read her as well as Spike.

"What?" she asked, trying to pay attention to the change of conversation, and dragged her feet to the sofa.

"The new Kim Possible movie," he said with what appeared to be a genuine smile, but it was all an act. He was trying hard to keep things laid-back, to get her to move on. She stared at him intensely and observed how his eye reflected a clash between real emotions and make-believe ones, and how his mouth barely comprehended the words he was saying. "Do you know who Kim's love interest is? You're not gonna believe it."

It made her stomach flutter, how he tried to do what she wanted regardless of his feelings. He was everything she needed to move on, a normal guy, who gave her a child and could give her a normal life. Why wouldn't she grab on tight to that straw? The minute Spike had returned to her life, things had gone from simple to complicated. She'd been happy when it was simple, hadn't she?

She blinked herself out of her thoughts to find her lips on Xander's. It was a small, chaste kiss that made her feel warmer. Yesterday was too cold and dark, and she was just tired. Her apartment was warm and safe and sweet, as were Xander's lips. The whole thing felt new. She hugged his stunned body but didn't deepen the kiss, preferring to keep it light and innocent, keep it different from everything she'd done with Spike.

"Wha…?" His hot breath hit her cheeks when she broke the kiss. She still hugged him, couldn't leave the heat.

"That's probably the best for Andy, right?" she said to his ear.

He gently pushed her away from him, and then she found herself staring into a perplexed hazel eye.

"Normal life. Normal parents," she explained. Swallowing heavily, she added, "Far away from vampires."

Xander's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you saying that you're quitting slaying?"

She inwardly cursed her slip of the tongue. "I… I just meant that it would be better for Andrea… if her parents were together." Her mind traveled back to the time when her parents were still together. They used to be so happy back then, but everything had fallen apart when the divorce happened. So many times, she and Dawn had wished for their parents to get back together. She missed the joy of seeing her parents holding hands and laughing. Buffy wanted that for Andrea; it was what Dawn had been hinting at all along.

Xander stared at her for several seconds until his gaze fell on his fingers touching the buttons of the remote control. "What about us, Buffy? We don't have feelings for each other." He looked up at her. "Not that way."

Her conversation with Dawn a week ago sprang to her mind. She let go of him, and they sat side by side, but didn't lose eye contact. "Time will tell, right?" There was a mechanical feel to the way she said it, which bothered her. Even Xander noticed it.

"I guess," he said, not quite believing it.

"This is for Andy," she stressed. She was relieved when his nod appeared natural. They reluctantly turned their attention to the television and watched a random episode of Scrubs where JD was having one of his over-the-top fantasies. Body was trying to connect with Head, again without succeeding.


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