“You could at least help me up, pet.” Spike was still on the kitchen floor, using his elbows to prop himself up.

Buffy ignored him, choosing instead to focus on her visitor. “So Tara,” she said, “not that I’m not happy to see you, but uh, what are you doing here?”

“Dawnie called me. She said W-Willow needed me to help make an antidote for you,” Tara answered. Tara’s eyes shifted from Buffy to Spike and back again, “Looks like you’re feeling better.”

Buffy’s cheeks reddened as she said, sheepishly, “It’s not what it looks like.”

Tara saw Buffy’s discomfort and hurried to her side, “It’s ok. People do strange things when they’re under stress.”

Buffy nodded. “Right. Yeah, that’s what happened,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as her friend. It wasn’t working. We kissed because he made me feel bad for not being the Buffy he married, for not loving him...

Spike finally stood up, readjusting his duster. Buffy’s thoughts were disrupted when she saw him approaching. “Next time you need some stress relief, Slayer,” he said, winking as he added, “let me know.”

“You’re a pig, Spike,” Buffy stated with narrowed eyes.

“And you’re a tease,” smirked the vampire. He loved the way she looked when she was angry, her eyes glistening with power and intensity as if she were about to strike at any minute. Since her return to the realm of the living, Spike had noticed that she wasn’t showing much of any sort of emotion. Spike vowed to do whatever he could to pull his Slayer out of this depression, even if it meant risking a stake through the heart. I must admit, he thought, running his tongue along his bottom lip, kissing Buffy definitely beats arguing with her.

Buffy rolled her eyes after Spike’s little remark. Why does he always have to be so gross? However, she forgot her disgust upon seeing Spike’s tongue trace the outline of his mouth, And why does he have to look so hot when he’s doing it? No! Bad Buffy! Kissing Spike is not of the good! She shook her head, trying to throw the memory of their latest kiss out of her head. Then she realized that this kiss had a witness. Fear flooded her mind as she whipped her head over to face Tara once more, “Please, Tara, you can’t tell the others!”

“Ok Buffy,” agreed Tara, “but I’m sure they would understand.”

Spike spoke up again, “Yeah, pet. Go tell your little Scoobies about us.”

“Never,” replied Buffy, growing angry again.

“No? Alright, I’ll save you the trouble.” Spike turned to exit the kitchen, taking only a couple steps before his face and chest were fiercely slammed up against the wall. “Ay! Watch it!”

Buffy had his arm twisted around behind his back, making the muscles in his shoulder burn with pain. “If you say one word about it I will rip off your arms and shove them down your throat!” she threatened.

“Well that wouldn’t be very nice,” joked Spike. Buffy didn’t think it was nearly as amusing, adding more pressure to Spike’s arm. Spike groaned in pain once more, signaling Tara to step in.

“Buffy,” she said, “I think he’s got the idea.”

“You think? I’m not so sure. He might need some more convincing.”

“Get your sodding hands off me!” Spike yelled out. Buffy complied, pushing off against Spike’s back to add a little more distance between them. Spike lifted his arm, rotating it as if to ensure there was no damage done. “Say Glinda, when you get this potion put together, think you could throw in a thing or two to get a this bird a new personality? I don’t much care for this one.”

Buffy stepped forward again, her fist at the ready, but Tara stopped her. “Buffy, I need some details from you, about your hallucinations? It’s for the spell to activate the antidote.”

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “Yeah, ok,” she said, then pointed toward Spike, “But he has to go.”

Spike lifted his hands as if to give up, “You win, pet. I’m goin’.” Spike stepped out of the kitchen, but as soon as he passed out of view around the corner, he stopped. If she won’t tell me what’s happenin’ to her, I’ll find out for myself.

Thinking Spike was long gone, Buffy began to explain her supposed delusion to Tara. “It seems so real,” Buffy explained, “I’m starting to think that I belong there.”

Tara reached out and rubbed Buffy’s arm reassuringly, “You’ll get through this.”

Buffy wasn’t completely persuaded, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to explain this? It’s really starting to get on my nerves!”

“Just take your time,” soothed Tara.

Buffy went through the demon attack and finding out about Mr. and Mrs. Harris, but saved the most troublesome part for last. “You’re gonna find this hard to believe,” she told Tara, “I mean, I’m still having trouble with it.”

“Go on,” prompted the witch.

“In the ‘other’ here, I’m married... to Spike.” Tara didn’t react as surprised as the others, most likely because she had seen the steamy kiss the ‘couple’ had shared. Buffy did not, however, see Spike’s reaction to that tidbit of information.

Spike was utterly astonished. Well, bugger me backwards! Slayer’s got me shackin’ up with her in that little delusion of a world! So that kiss WAS meant for me... Spike was not about to abandon his position, determined to find out more about this hitched version of himself.

“And that’s not even the weirdest part,” continued Buffy, “Spike is human there!”

Well isn’t that neat.

“He gave up his un-life to pull me from hell. He could have died! That Spike is sweet and caring and... and,” Buffy’s frantic sounding voice calmed as she came to a realization, “and I really like that Spike.”

Spike couldn’t believe his ears! Buffy was in there singing his praises... but it’s not me she cares for, it’s him. Buffy and Tara had moved on to discuss the ingredients of the antidote, but Spike was no longer listening. He was too busy formulating a plan to win his Slayer over.

“Lurk much?”

Spike jumped, looking like a five year old caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “Oh! Hey there, Nibblet.”

“What are you doing?” asked Dawn.

“I was...” Spike paused, searching around the room for some way out of his predicament.

“Well?” Dawn pushed, impatiently.

Spike’s eyes landed on the television, “Thought you might want to join me in front of the telly. ‘Passions’ should be on soon.”

“Uh, no thanks,” responded Dawn, leaving Spike’s side and heading upstairs.

“Right then. Some other time,” he called after her. Once she was safely upstairs, Spike leaned the back of his head against the wall, shut his eyes, and let out a sigh of relief. That was close. However, when his eyes reopened, he was face-to-face with a very perturbed Buffy.

Brilliant, bloody brilliant.