Feeling lonely and out of place, Buffy walked the streets of Sunnydale. For the night, all was as it should be. No demons, or vamps, or demons and vamps created by the crazy magics of Ethan Rayne. Everyone was out having fun, or at her house celebrating. Except for her.

Yup. Cause slayers didn’t get to be happy. Even if they died and served their time, they had to be brought back again by their friends - and the crazy notion that I was in friggin’ hell! No, calm down, Buffy. They didn’t know.

Seeing some happy couples out and about, she felt even lonelier. And gloomy. Anya going on about finding that perfect someone in all dimensions. Yeah right. It was all… a bunch of phooey. Yeah, phooey.

With nothing much to do, and nowhere to go, Buffy decided to go visit Spike.

“Slayer. Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Thought you’d be, uh… busy.”

“Yeah. Well, there was a lot of commotion at the house. A mini party actually.”

“Party? For who?”

“Xander and Anya are engaged. They just announced it tonight.”

“Really? That’s kinda shocking innit?”

“Shocking?”

“S’ just, usually people from troubled homes have problems with long term commitments. Such as marriage.”

“And why do you say that, Dr. Phil?”

“Come on, Buffy. I lived with Xander, remember? Calling his family ‘dysfunctional’ would be a compliment.”

“Well, Xander did seem kinda nervous… But Anya was, like, glowing. Going on and on about meeting her one special person in all dimensions. It was kinda sweet.”

“Meeting that ‘one special person,’ eh?” he said skeptically as he lit a cigarette. “This bein’ the Hellmouth and all, I say they’ve got a fifty- fifty chance at it.”

“Hey, it’s not nice to rain on their parade.”

“Just saying love. Look at me. Nearly 120 years with Dru flushed down the bloody toilet after coming here. You and Peaches, Red and Dog boy… Just seems to be goin’ around, is all.”

“I think it’ll work out this time,” Buffy said, trying to convince Spike as well as herself. She sat down on the comfy chair and waited for him to say something.

“So, what do you fancy for the evening, pet?”

“I dunno. No point to patrolling, really. There’s nothing to fight. I just thought that maybe… you know.”

“Know what?”

“You know- hang out maybe?” Spike thought she looked absolutely adorable; all uncertain and wide eyed, waiting to see if he would accept her offer or reject it.

Should bloody know by now I can’t say no to her. He gave her a slight smirk.

“Uh huh. Well, no objections here. Wanna drink? I’ve got tequila.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“So… what d’ya wanna do then?”

“You know what was nice? What I miss? When we used to fight. Except now, it’d be more like sparring rather than attempting to fight to the death. I mean, I know it’s kinda difficult now, but wanna try anyway? For old times sake? ‘Cept this Halloween, I know who I am and I’m not all weak and helpless,” she said in an awfully chipper voice.

“Yeah, alright,” he said with a shrug. “Outside?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t wanna mess up your place.” She rose from her chair, stretching a bit before heading towards the door.


“Ha, ha, Buff,” he said dryly as he grabbed his duster andfollowed her outside.

“No, I mean it. It’s homey. I like how you’ve changed it. I feel more comfortable here than in my own home. Which is weird, but I guess somehow makes all the sense in the world, huh?”

“So, is it bad? You hangin’ out here with me?”

She turned and looked at him with confusion written all over her face.

“Bad? I thought we had fun together. Even when we hated each other. It was annoying, but fun.”

He sighed in exasperation, shaking his head.

“No, I mean, do you feel… guilty? Bein’ here with me,” he clarified. This time, it was he who was uncertain and doubtful. On impulse, she grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“I feel… comfortable when I’m with you. I can be myself. We’re friends, Spike. And besides, you’re the only one who knows my deepest, darkest secret. I feel like you’re the only one I can talk to. But then, it’s been like that for a while now, hasn’t it? All those times you showed up when I was alone, giving me brutal honesty, or just being a listening ear.” She smiled at him and he smiled shyly back at her.

“I’m glad that you feel comfortable sharing things with me. It means a lot, to me,” he said, giving her was of those sincere, penetrating looks of his. It made her shiver internally. She felt all… tingly. Letting go of his hand [and breaking the moment], she asked, “Spar now?” They both automatically dropped into fighting stances; Spike changed into game face.

“Oh, Slayer. I will have your blood,” he said with a very toothy grin. She smiled, holding her stake upside down in a striking position.

“That’ll be pretty hard when you’re floating in the wind, vamp.”

Laughing and giggling, they threw mock kicks and punches at each other. After several minutes of really getting into it and thinking that there was enough safe distance between them, Spike performed a perfect spin kick, accidentally connecting with the side of Buffy’s face. She was knocked to the ground with an “oomph.”

Immediately concerned with her wellbeing, Spike allowed his game face to melt away. The time for fun and games was over. He dropped to his knees before her to see if she was all right, apologies already coming from his mouth. Seeing that she wasn’t in any pain from the accidental kick, he realized that no pain had come his way.

“Gee, Spike. We were just playing. Why’d you hit me so hard? God, I hope it doesn’t bruise. You and those damnable Doc Martens,” she complained, sitting up and holding her face.

“You sure you’re okay, Buffy?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah. It really wasn’t that hard. It just caught me off guard. You must be getting soft in your old age.”

Ignoring the friendly jibe at him, Spike wanted to see if it was a fluke or not. He pinched her arm. With a shocked “Owww! That hurt!” she slapped his hand away.

“What was that for?!”

“Buffy, I don’t think my chip is working.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t get a mind splitting headache just now. Or when I accidentally kicked you. Chip must be busted or something.”

“Broken?” she asked worriedly, immediately getting up. Spike swallowed hard as he watched the mixed emotions play out on her face.

“So what do we do now?” Buffy asked, but he had a feeling she already had some not so pleasant ideas in mind.

“Don’t do that, please.”

“Do what?”

“Look at you. Your arms are all folded tightly against your chest, and you’re gripping your stake. You’re shutting me out before we even discuss this thing!”

Buffy looked down at herself and quickly took a more relaxed stance.

“Spike, just calm down, okay?”

“Calm? Well how calm would you be if I was standing here looking at you like this?” Immediately, he mirrored her earlier position and gave her a hard stare. She felt herself shivering again.

“All right, you made your point.”

Spike nodded, dropping his arms and putting his hands in his pockets. Giving her one of those kicked puppy looks, he asked in a quiet voice, “I thought we were friends, pet. Deepest darkest, secrets and all that? Now you know one of mine.”

“I know, but Spike-”

“Buffy, you know that I would never hurt you. Or Dawnie, or the Scoobies. I know what you’re thinking. But believe me, I would never give you a reason to seriously use that stake on me. I’m not like that anymore.”

“Spike, I know that. And for the record… I don’t think I could stake you. I can’t explain it, but… honestly, I don’t even want to think about it. If it ever came down to it, I would hope that you would leave town first.”

Gaining courage at her admission, he stepped into her personal space, and grabbed her hand.

“I thought friends were supposed to help each other. Keep each other’s secrets and all that. As long as there's no hair braiding whatsoever,” he said, his eyes downcast as he stroked her hand with his thumb.

“Actually, I like what you’re doing to your hair. That slightly curly look. I think you should go all curly.” She ran her fingers through the platinum locks.

“Well, if it pleases the lady…” Bringing their clasped hands up and gently grasping her waist with his free hand, Spike began to move them around in a slow waltz; Buffy stumbled along with him.

“Friends can dance together as well, right?”

“Yeah, even though I’m a total ditz at this.”

“No worries, I’ll teach you.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m glad we’re friends.”

And for the remainder of the evening, all chip talk ceased. The two friends decided to focus on having a good time.