Spike woke grudgingly. Even in the relative dark of the Summers’ basement, his body knew that it was morning and thus, not its time for wakefulness. He was a nighttime creature, a vampire. No amount of love or guilt would change the simple facts of his physiology: inhuman speed, inhuman hearing, an inhuman sense of smell, inhuman fangs. Inhuman. His deal with the demon hadn’t changed that. He may have gotten back the soul of a man who had always been prey, but he’d gotten it back in a body that would always be predator.

Because of that, Spike knew several things before even opening his eyes. Buffy was no longer in the bed with him. He knew that immediately, though he couldn’t have said which sense tipped him off first. His senses were always a little muddled were she was concerned. He could tell by the way her scent and warmth still lingered on the sheets that she hadn’t been gone long and he was suddenly hit by a wave of anger. Why had he let himself fall asleep? She had lain beside him all night and he missed it. Even injured, he should have stayed awake. He should have been savoring every moment. It was a gift, that intimacy, a gift he didn’t expect to receive again. Spike would have groaned out loud except for one other thing he had known almost instantly. He wasn’t alone.

Willow was there. Her scent was familiar. The buzz of magics surrounding her was distinctive for someone in tune with such things. Spike listened carefully; her heartbeat was slow and steady. He heard her turn the page of the book she was reading and gently brush off the dust obscuring the words. Not a likely threat. She was probably there on babysitting duty.

Fairly confident in his reasoning, Spike fell back on an old habit, a predatory trick. He acted more human than he was, downplaying his abilities so that those around him wouldn’t expect them if he ever needed to surprise them.

With a low groan, he stretched and blinked open his eyes and frowned as he looked around the room. He hadn’t been loud enough, Willow still sat casually flipping through an ancient magics tome as though it were nothing more intellectually challenging than the latest issue of Cosmo.

He rustled the sheets again before sitting up to stretch his arms above his head.

Willow looked up to see him frowning and gave him a small smile. “Buffy went upstairs to grab a quick shower. I’m just…um…I’m just…”

“You’re just here to stop me from killing everyone should The First decide that it’s not quite done with me.”

She blushed slightly, but nodded. “That’s about the sum of it.”

“Thank You.”

Her eyes widened at his earnest tone. Unsure of how to respond, she nevertheless opened her mouth to try.

Spike beat her to it. “It won’t be necessary though.”

“Spike.” Her brow furrowed. “We can’t be sure…”

“Tell the slayer that I’ll heal just fine in the chains. No point in you all wasting your time on account of me.”

Willow stared at the man in front of her. She was suddenly realizing that despite all their history, he was once again a stranger. The Spike she knew would have milked the situation, anything to get more of Buffy’s attention, but there had been no false bravado in his tone. As best as she could tell, Spike was being honest. He wasn’t putting on a noble act, he was simply acting nobly.

It threw her.

The Spike she knew loved Buffy. Willow had seen inside his thoughts, she knew that his feelings had been true, but he could only overcome his nature so much. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him try; no one could deny that William the Bloody had made some amazing gestures. Still, Willow thought, at his core, Spike had been selfish and desperately needy. But the Spike she knew was gone. He wasn’t making it as obvious as Angel had, but the soul changed things. She didn’t really know the man she was talking to now.

Spike watched her study him for several moments before speaking again. “Willow? You agree?”

She shook her head slightly. “Buffy doesn’t want…” She shrugged, trying to choose her words carefully. Not entirely understanding Buffy’s thinking made it especially challenging. Willow stopped trying when she realized that she had completely lost Spike’s attention.

Wincing, Spike had pushed himself up and was watching the stairs expectantly.

Willow turned, and though Buffy was not yet walking down, Willow was sure that she would be soon. Whatever changes had taken place with Spike, Willow had a strong suspicion that his devotion to Buffy had remained intact. Her scholar’s mind immediately saw the possible implications. Spike’s less than radical transformation after getting his soul back certainly suggested that much of what they had been taught about vampires was incorrect. Spike was a changed man but not an entirely different one. It was a conversation that she and Giles would need to have before too long.

She knew from the widening of Spike’s eyes the moment that Buffy stepped into sight. She didn’t bother to hold back her grin or the slight shake of her head. No one was watching her at that moment anyway.

“Thanks Will.” Buffy gave her friend a brief but warm glance as she walked down the stairs. Willow hadn’t argued with her or even questioned her request. She had simply shrugged and headed down to the basement. Buffy wondered almost fleetingly if she could talk to Willow, really talk to her, about the current maelstrom of conflicting emotions battering down her heart. She couldn’t. It wasn’t fair, perhaps not to either one of them, but Buffy had stopped expecting life to be fair.

She moved carefully, her arms full with towels and clothes and a steaming mug in each hand. When their eyes met, she gave Spike a small smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Buffy waited until Willow left and had shut the door behind her. “Your shoulder is bleeding again.” Her eyes quickly scanned his body as she tried to gauge his recovery. Vampires heal quickly, but he’d been more than a little battered. She could see that he was still in pain by the slightly awkward way he was sitting, but was pleased by the amount of progress his body had made over the night. A couple of days, she thought, a couple of days resting and some extra blood and he’ll be back to normal. She could handle a couple of days. Her friends weren’t heartless; they’d seen how messed up Spike had been. They would hold off on any major intervention for a couple days and in the meantime she would just have to ignore the concerned glances and the certainty that they were discussing her once she left the room.

Buffy was sure that she could do it, she could let Spike heal in peace and comfort and then… She couldn’t think past then. Buffy needed to focus on the now.

Putting the pile in her arms down, she sat beside him on the cot and handed him a mug before taking a sip of her own coffee. She hoped to appear casual. See, she reassured herself, no big deal we’re just having some breakfast.

Spike took the mug with a grateful nod and lowered eyes. It was hardly the first time Buffy had handed him blood, but it was the first time she had ever thought to warm it. It was a small gesture, really nothing compared to her sharing his bed in deference to his comfort, but it was still a surprise. He sipped it awkwardly, due only in part to the stiffness of his injured shoulder, and wondered if his drinking blood disgusted her. He supposed that as a human he would have found it quite repulsive.

“You don’t got the time for this.”

Buffy frowned slightly at his words. “I…”

“It’s a nice gesture, pet…not real sure what I did to deserve it, but…I know that you’ve got to get to work and the witch has plenty to keep her busy. No one’s got the time to waste watching me.” He stopped suddenly and cocked his head to the side. “Is it just my imagination or did this house get even more crowded?” His look was incredulous. “Has Dawn got her girlfriends over?”

Buffy gave a delicate snort of laughter. “No. They’re slayers or they could be. Potentials. The First is trying to kill off anyone who has even the chance of becoming a slayer.”

His eyes widened. “Bloody ambitious for a monster that can’t pick up its own knife.”

“So, they are all headed here…to me, so…I can protect them.”

“More responsibility.” He shook his head. “’Cause you didn’t have enough.”

She shrugged slightly. “There’s no one else.”

“Should be.” Spike sighed. “Piss poor planning. One slayer to protect the world against armies of evil.” Seeing the despair flit across her features, he kicked himself. It was just what she needed, he thought, him telling her how hard things were. He should have been reminding her that she could do it, that no matter how hard things got, she fought back. She’d done it before and she would again. It was one of the reasons he loved her. He tried again. “You’ll have help, though. That team of yours, they’ll pull through for you again.”

She looked upward then, as though she could see her friends through the ceiling. “It’s bigger than anything we’ve faced before.”

“Want me to tell you that the big ones fall harder?” He smiled gently.

She turned to look straight at him. “I want you to tell me that you’ll be here. I…want you in this with me.”

Swallowing hard, Spike worked to hide his surprise. “You’ve got me. You know that. Whatever you need I’ll…”

“I need you healed.”

He smirked. Clever girl, he thought, she led me right in to that one. “Vampire here, love. I’ll heal without the coddling. You’ve got work.”

She frowned at him. He hadn’t called her love in a while. It sounded nice. Of course he’d said it while telling her to go, so it hadn’t really taken off the sting. Maybe he really just wanted her to leave him alone. She could understand that intellectually, but it still hurt. She was really trying here. The thought brought out a spurt of directness. “I took the day off. Dawn’s got school,” she said, listing everything off, Xander’s going to work, Anya and Willow are taking the girls on some errands and such. I plan to enjoy the quiet. You can either come upstairs where I can keep an eye on you or you can stay here all tied up and feeling sorry for yourself.”


A/N- Thanks to Dampersnspoons for the beta-reading. And thanks to everyone who takes the time to review. :)