“Spike?”

“What?”

“What’s your last name?”

“The sun’s barely risen, I’m trying to go to sleep, and that’s what you’re bothering me with?”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Please?”

“Go away, woman! And stop pouting. That’s not going to work. I’m not some nancy-boy who can’t resist a woman’s pout.”

“I bet you would if it were Buffy’s. And you so are a nancy-boy, William the Bloody awful poet.”

“Oi! Who told you that?”

“Uh…I’ve been around a while. I hear things.”

“If you tell anyone…”

“What’s your last name?”

“Why did I even let you in?”

“Because we outcasts have to stick together. And because you like me. What’s your last name?”

“I do not!”

“Not as much as you like Buffy, though, right?”

“Will you give it a rest?”

“Good.”

“Bugger. I’m never going to get to sleep, am I?”

“Not until you tell me your last name.”

“Bloody- Pratt, alright? It’s Pratt.”

“Ha! Isn’t that some kind of British insult? Pratt the prat!”

“And this is why I don’t share.”

“Aw, Spikey, did I hurt your feelings?”

“Bugger off, Demon Girl.”

“Kay! I’ll be downstairs!”

Spike laid back down on the sarcophagus and wondered how long it would be before he exploded his own mind by killing Anya.

A grin tugged at the edge of his lips. Except…she was kind of cute, wasn’t she? She’d grown up a lot since that party they’d gone to together last year. She reminded him a bit of a mellower Buffy.

Not that he needed another Buffy in his life. One was more than enough.

--

Willow was a bit nonplussed. “Possessed.”

“You saw her yesterday, Wills! She just…stormed out, just like that! And she didn’t come home last night at all. Who knows what she was doing?” Xander was pacing back and forth in his apartment’s small kitchen area, his fists clenched and his eyes worried.

Willow gave him a sympathetic smile. “Look, I know that Anya isn’t usually the smart one, but yesterday…she might have been right to get Buffy involved. Buffy seemed to think so. I kinda get why she was upset.” She plopped down in one of the chairs. “And let’s be honest. Anya’s kind of high-strung, so this whole overreaction does make some sense.”

“There’s more.” Xander looked pained. “I really didn’t want to bring this up, but…shewon’thavesexwithme.”

Willow squinted at him. “There’s no way you just said what I think you did.”

Xander nodded miserably. “She won’t. She said that it’s all part of some test of love or something, but it’s been days.”

Willow remembered last year, when Anya thought that Xander was breaking up with her because they hadn’t slept together for one night. “Possession, huh? I’ll look into it.”

He smiled gratefully at her. “Thanks. The only other thing I can think of is that she’s having an affair. But Anya wouldn’t be able to keep a secret like that.” He grinned half-heartedly.

“Or it could be something demony. Maybe I’ll go pay Spike a visit, see if he saw her around Willy’s or something last night,” Willow said thoughtfully.

“I hope she’s okay,” Xander muttered, twisting his hands and looking down in sudden shame. “If something happened to her…”

Willow frowned, backtracking on the conversation. “Wait. What was that about a test of love?”

Xander’s stammering kept her busy for a few more minutes, until Willow finally gave up and headed for Spike’s. It wasn’t really on the way to where she was going next, but she was a little worried for Xander’s sake, and maybe even a teensy bit for Anya’s, too. She might not like the ex-demon much, but she didn’t want her dead in some alley. And it wasn’t like Buffy and Dawn and Mrs. Summers were going anywhere.

She knocked tentatively on the crypt door. There was a muffled giggle, and a distinct female voice called, “Come in!” Willow shook her head in an attempt to clear out her ears. Because there was no way that Anya was hanging out with Spike, was there?

“No! Don’t come in!” Spike grumbled as Willow pushed the door open. “This isn’t a hotel, contrary to what this one thinks.” The two current residents were sitting side-by-side on the couch, watching what looked like a soap opera on the grainy screen.

Anya pouted. “Don’t you like me?”

Willow just stared, amazed. Was this what she thought it was? Were both their guesses correct? Anya was having an affair with Spike!

“No,” he grumbled, finally looking up. “Good. It’s the witch. I beg of you, get rid of her!”

Or maybe not.

“Anya, did you sleep here last night?” Willow asked finally.

She grinned. “Hey, Wills! I’ve been harassing Spike all morning! He taught me all about Passions!”

“The soap opera.”

She bobbed her head up and down energetically.

“She keeps trying to molest me,” Spike griped. “Send her back to the droopy boy, or she might not make it out of here.”

Anya actually looked hurt. “Do you really hate me that much?” She looked down, suddenly no longer bouncy, but utterly desolate.

“Don’t cry!” Spike said hastily. “I don’ want to see that.”

She glanced up at him with sudden hope. “You like me?”

“I don’t hate you, love,” he said grudgingly. “You’ve gotten much better. But maybe you could respect the personal space?”

Willow watched, amazed, as Spike attempted to assuage Anya’s fears. This is worse than I thought. Somehow, Spike’s gotten her under his charms.

Anya beamed, reaching to embrace him. Then she remembered herself and let her hands drop, her face falling a bit as she did.

“You can molest me a little,” Spike conceded, smiling reluctantly, and she laughed and threw her arms around him.

“Okay, um, I don’t mean to intrude, but Anya? Xander’s kind of worried, and-“

“Let him be worried,” Anya sighed. “Maybe he’ll learn something. Like to appreciate what you’ve got when you have it.”

“So now you’re running to Spike?” Willow asked doubtfully.

Anya shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Willow sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell Xander you’re here.”

“You will not!” Spike jerked up, outraged. “That idiot’ll stake me before this stupid bint can tell him that nothing happened!”

Anya was nodding decisively. “He’s right. Xander can’t know.”

Willow’s eyes narrowed. She’d always had a soft spot for Spike, but nothing close to that for Anya. In fact, she was pretty sure that Little Miss Destroying-men’s-lives-for-the-past-millennium-ask-me-how was going to be the thing that finally broke Xander, and it looked like she was starting now. “Why? Is there something you’re hiding?”

Anya jumped up and moved toward Willow, meeting her eyes pleadingly. “Will, I’d never do that! I wouldn’t hurt Xander! He’s my best--- boyfriend!”

Willow suppressed a shudder at hearing her nickname from the other girl’s mouth, as though they were friends. And the rest of it wasn’t a pleasure to hear, either. “Well, you seem to be doing a good job of it now. He’s at home, wondering what he did wrong, while you’re palling around with Spike. And now you want to keep it from him? Let me tell you, keeping secrets from significant others? Not the best move in a relationship.”

Anya sighed, folding. “I promise that nothing happened between me and Spike.” Behind her, Spike nodded vigorously. “I just needed a place to go, and he’s the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m nothing.”

Willow sighed. How did she end up in the position of insecure ex-demon shrink? “Anya, we don’t think you’re nothing. Just…we’ve been doing this a long time. We know each other pretty well, and last night, we thought that Buffy didn’t need the stress. She’s got a lot going on.”

Anya shook her head. “You know, I’ve been hanging out with you guys for a year now. Don’t you think I’ve picked something up besides Xander’s occasionally disturbing male habits?”

Willow shrugged helplessly. “Look, Xander’s kind of worried. I said I’d help find you, but if you don’t want me to tell him where we were, then you’ve got to come back home.”

Anya scowled. “Fine. I’ll go back with you.”

“Oh, I have to go see Buffy first,” Willow remembered. She lifted her bag, a rather garish white one with smiley faces covering it. “Want to come?” Inwardly, she winced at the idea of spending the whole afternoon with Anya. Outwardly, she smiled brightly.

Anya opened her mouth, then shut it, a look of sudden interest on her face. “Gifts,” she said finally. “For the Summerses?”

Willow nodded, pulling out the beer helmet she’d bought to show Anya. “See? You fill it up, and-“

“I’ll be back at Xander’s soon,” Anya cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.” She cast a sidelong glance at Spike. “I just need to take care of some stuff first.”

“You do that.” Willow left the crypt, relieved that she’d dodged the Anya-bullet.

At least she knew one thing. Anya wasn’t possessed or anything of the sort. She’d just developed a backbone. Who woulda thunk it?

--

Spike leaned back against his tree, wondering what his cue was to enter the Slayer’s house.

Anya had warned him the last time he’d seen her yesterday about this, but she’d insisted that he find the right time and words. As though he were some kind of superhero, instead of a sometimes-crass vampire who spent half the time with his foot in his mouth around Buffy.

But Anya had insisted.

“I think tomorrow’s when Buffy’s Mom goes home for the day. And there’s gonna be a de- She’s going to need some help. Support. So wait for your cue, make sure to say the right things, and back her up if she needs it.”

That woman… He grinned to himself. He didn’t know what had possessed Anya to play matchmaker, but she was quite the taskmaster. She’d even gone into his bedroom and found all the clothing he’d already stolen from Buffy and yelled at him to get rid of it. Except for one moderately hideous pink thing he’d actually thought was Harmony’s. With that, she’d stalked around the crypt, muttering something incomprehensible about robots, he thought, and then grabbed his lighter from his back pocket and set it up in flames. Then she’d started driving orders into him even more furiously. He now knew Buffy’s favorite colors, movies, activities, stakes…

He did wonder how Anya had picked up on all that, but was quickly distracted when she’d begged him for a place to stay. And there was an invariable soft spot for the ex-demon. After all, he knew what it was like to suddenly be thrust into the human world. And Harris was definitely not the best one to shack up with after something like that. Plus, he was starting to genuinely like Anya. She was good to him, she really seemed to understand him…even the touchy-feelyness that she’d been exhibiting lately wasn’t as bad as he’d pretended it was. He craved touch as much as she did.

For a moment, he’d considered taking her up on the offer she’d been projecting almost subconsciously and sleeping with her. But no, as much as he liked her, she wasn’t Buffy. And he’d never get Buffy if Anya didn’t help.

He moved to the other girl who’d been occupying his thoughts with a smile. Okay, he wanted to shag her to the ground. But was Anya right? Was he really in love with her? That night after the Bronze, seeing her cry on her back porch… he’d hurt with her, wanted to save her from the pain. It was a feeling he’d never felt as a vampire, not even with Dru, who was more about him inflicting pain than sparing her it. There’d been something so vulnerable about the Slayer that night, something that had brought out the Victorian man in him and ensured that instead of goading her, he’d tried to comfort her.

She was his equal, he realized. And not just in strength. He was the darkness with some light hidden within, though he’d never admit it, and she was goodness personified but with that edge of darkness. They would complement each other so well, be so perfect together…

Well, as long as I can help her reevaluate her taste in music, he thought wryly, hearing salsa music coming from the kitchen.

Wait a minute… He frowned. Underneath the music and the sound of washing dishes, his vampire hearing was picking up…sobs? Her sobs, wracking her body, taking over…

He ached. And before he knew what he was doing, he pushed open the front door and moved swiftly into the kitchen.

She didn’t hear him approach, too absorbed in the dishes and the water and the tears. Absent-mindedly, he picked up a towel and the last plate she’d put on the drying rack and wiped it off.

She handed him the next, then jumped when she realized that he was there. Her mouth formed words, but they didn’t come out, the fear of breaking down too strong.

He saw the red-rimmed eyes and melted, reaching out his thumb to brush away some of the tears. And weary, despairing, and utterly lost, she collapsed into his arms because she needed someone to hold her up.

He stood there with her for what seemed like forever, his arms wrapped around her and hers stiff at her sides. He was holding her up at this moment, he realized. This wasn’t sexual at all. Even his body seemed to recognize it. This was the Slayer at her most vulnerable, and she was trusting him, just a little. And so, when her hands finally curled around him to clutch at his back, his heart alone warmed.

And he finally conceded that Anya was right. He was in love with her.

Of course, his epiphany was interrupted.

“BUFFYYY!!!”

They both jumped, and Buffy raced upstairs to Dawn, not looking back to him once. He shook his head to clear it. That must be Anya’s cue. He followed his love up the steps.

The demon was fairly easy to kill. It grappled with Buffy and Spike stabbed at it desperately, killing it with a few good strikes of a kitchen knife.

She threw the demon off her and used his outstretched hand to pull herself up. She didn’t let go once she was standing, her eyes meeting his uncertainly. His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand soothingly as they gazed at each other. Something was happening, and Spike didn’t dare to quantify it just yet.

Then a team of black-clad army types crashed into the house, led by Riley Finn, of course, and Buffy dropped his hand and ran upstairs to her mother and sister.

A look passed between Spike and Finn, and then Spike turned and left the house. He’d won this round. Rubbing it in would only undo everything he’d just built with Buffy.

Anya would be proud,he mused. There’s no way I said anything stupid.

--

Buffy rolled over, avoiding Xander’s questing arm. This was not pleasant, and sharing a bed with Xander wasn’t her first choice of ways to celebrate her mother’s healthy operation. But Dawn was sleeping on the couch, and there was no need for her to see the one healthy heterosexual relationship she was exposed to falling apart.

Speaking of which…

Sometime soon, she was pretty sure that Riley was going to leave. She couldn’t remember exactly when, but she’d have to speak to Spike about it beforehand. No need for him to ruin his chances with past!Buffy by breaking them up.

Xander’s arm snaked out again, pulling her closer to him and the hardness she could feel near her rear. She tried to squirm away, bemoaning her lost Slayer strength. Lucky past!Buffy.

Past!Buffy, who thought that her mother was going to be okay. Buffy sighed, staring at the ceiling. There were some things that couldn’t be changed, and she knew that her mother’s death was one of them. Maybe there were steps that could be taken to prolong it or fight it, but one thing she’d learned was that natural deaths should not be undone. What had happened would happen again, no matter what. And destiny was the one thing a Slayer couldn’t fight.

What she really regretted was how little time she’d been able to spend with her mother this time around. After all, why would Anya want to hang out with Joyce Summers?

A rapping at the front door jolted her out of her reverie, and she headed swiftly to the door, praying that Dawn wasn’t going to wake up. She pulled it open.

“Spike? What are you doing here?”

His eyes were glittering with glee. “Need to talk to you.”

She pulled the door shut behind her to join him in the hallway. “Spike, it’s nearly one AM. What is so important that-“

“Trulls!” Spike said triumphantly.

“Huh?” But she’d already realized what he was talking about. Of course! She’d just been thinking about it, too.

“The Soldier Boy!” Spike said impatiently. “Followed him out of Buffy’s room to a vampire bitehouse. He’s been getting suckjobs from them. Regularly, from the sound of things.” He beamed. “I just need to tell the Slayer, and-“

Buffy whapped him on the head.

“Oi! What was that for?” he protested.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. “This will make Buffy: A, happy, or B, sad.”

He sighed, defeated. “Sad.” His eyes lit up. “Or maybe mad!”

“At you, mad,” Buffy warned him. “Not if you’re so happy about it. Try to sympathize a little, sheesh!”

“Right.” He gave her a hangdog expression. “Sorry. But what do I do? How do I tell her?”

Buffy considered. There was no good way to hear that kind of news. But seeing it, like she did last time? Was that the way to do it? Definitely not. Maybe if Spike just sat her down and told her the truth…?

It was time for her to stop coaching him on what to say, not if they were going to have a relationship that lasted past her leaving the time period. This was going to be up to Spike. “Talk to her. Be sensitive.”

“That’s it. That’s all you’re going to tell me?” he asked, annoyed.

Buffy put a hand on his arm. “You want her to fall for you, not me, right?”

“Wouldn’t mind either,” he leered, and she laughed. “But yeah. I get it. Thanks, love.” He kissed her cheek briefly. “Have a good night.”

And he was off.

Buffy pressed her hand to her cheek and smiled.

--

Limbs entangled, her hot body clinging to his cool one, skilled fingers on her as soft lips enveloped hers…She looked into blue, twinkling eyes as she reached heights she’d never thought she could, her hands clutching at his platinum blond hair…

Buffy woke with a start. “Riley?” she asked groggily, guilt from her dream overwhelming her. Well, it wasn’t like she could help the fact that Spike was so gorgeous, or that he’d recently been so…nice. It wasn’t like she was cheating by dreaming about him while she was lying in Riley’s arms… Except she wasn’t. In Riley’s arms, that is. Where was Riley?

“It’s me,” Spike said, and she jerked up, flushing and wrapping her blanket around her even more tightly. Of all the people to show up in her bedroom… “Need to talk to you.”

“Now?” she asked disbelievingly.

He squinted. “Are you naked under there?”

“Get out,” she said quickly, reddening even more.

“I’m serious! About the talking part, I mean,” he amended. His eyes shifted. “Well, and the naked part, but I don’t think you-“

“Spike,” she growled. If I ever needed a reason to stop having these dreams about him…

He looked contrite. “Right. Sorry, I’m doing this all wrong. I’ll just…” he gestured vaguely at the door. “Wait in the kitchen or something.”

Or not. “Right,” she echoed. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

She dressed quickly, wondering what was so important and if she’d have to uninvite the damn vampire again.

He held out a glass of water to her when she entered the kitchen and she took it warily, wondering why he was being so thoughtful. “Okay. What’s going on?”

He looked at her earnestly. “I just want you to know, I’m not telling you this to make you miserable or depressed. You’ve got enough stress in your life now, but you need to know this.”

“Spike… What did you do?”

“Last night…” He took her empty glass from her hand and set it on the table, their fingers brushing slightly and sending a jolt of electricity through her. “I happened to be in the area-“

“You mean you were staking out my house again,” Buffy interrupted. “Really, what’s up with that? Is it some kind of predator thing?”

Spike gave her a look. “I saw Riley leaving.”

Buffy felt a chill at his words. Had he ever called Riley by his first name? This was serious. And where was Riley now? The last time he’d disappeared… “But we got rid of that Initiative chip thing that controlled him with Adam. You don’t think-“

But Spike was shaking his head. “It wasn’t against his will. I followed him to one of those places, where vampires give suckjobs…”

Buffy leaned heavily against the counter. “Suckjobs.”

Spike nodded. “Humans, they get a rush from the bite. Some of them get addicted. Vamps in these places get paid to bite ‘em.” He moved closer, his eyes dark. “Soldier Boy was looking for some darkness.”

Buffy shoved him. “Get out.”

Spike looked completely perplexed. “But it’s true! I could show you, if that’s what you want. It’s just-“

“Get out!” she snapped, punching him hard in the face.

He reeled backwards, his eyes flashing. “If you can’t handle the truth, then fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Clutching his bloody nose, he fled the house, leaving Buffy still leaning against the counter, feeling drained.

It was impossible. Riley wouldn’t have done anything like that. The bites on his arm were from a nasty accident on patrol, just like he said. He couldn’t have. He was the normal one! Spike was just trying to break them up, like he’d done to the group last year. He just wanted in her pants or something. That made a lot more sense than…

When Riley finally came home and she confronted him about it, he turned it back on her, making her feel guilty. She’d been wrong. He needed her to need him, and she’d been lacking in her duties as a girlfriend. At this rate, she was going to lose him. And soon, if he was really planning on rejoining Special Ops.

She lay alone in her bed for the rest of a sleepless night.

When morning came, she headed for the Magic Box for information. She needed to take down this vamp nest on her own. And she really didn’t want to go to Spike and tell him he’d been right.

“Hi.” The Magic Box was empty. Only Anya stood behind the counter, watching her expectantly as though she’d been waiting for her.

“Where’s Giles?” Buffy demanded. She didn’t have time for Anya now.

Anya shook her head. “They’re not here. I had them all leave.” She took a deep breath. “Buffy, I know what happened. Spike told me.”

“Oh, great!” she fumed. “Not only does he have to ruin my relationship, but he has to tell everyone else about it, too! ‘Hey, everybody, check out Buffy who can’t keep a man!’” Shaking with rage, she headed for the door.

“No one else knows. He told me beforehand,” Anya said softly. “He didn’t know how to tell you. He wanted advice.”

“So he went to you?” Buffy asked dubiously.

“Well, it’s not like he was going to chat with Xander about it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Buffy shook her head. “Anya, I don’t have time for this. Do you know where this bitehouse is?”

She looked away. “I do. But Buffy…”

“Tell me!” Buffy insisted. What was Anya being so difficult?

“Is this really what you want?” Anya asked. “To kill the harmless vampires, live happily ever after with Riley?”

“It’s what I do! Slayer, remember?” She felt the sudden urge to punch something. Maybe she should train before she left. Or go beat up Spike or something. Why did he have to tell her this?

“Listen to me!” Anya snapped, annoyed. “Is it really so impossible?”

Buffy tuned back to Anya. “What?”

“Look, I’m just going to say this, and you’re not going to like it. Riley’s a jerk.”

“No, he isn’t. It’s my fault. I made him feel unwanted. I kept him at a distance and didn’t let him in,” Buffy retorted, feeling her eyes tear up.

“Stop. Now,” Anya ordered. “You’ve been going through a really tough time. Your mother, Dawn… You needed someone. He just didn’t step up to the plate, and now he’s trying to make you feel guilty about it.“

“Yeah, I did,” Buffy admitted. “I needed someone. But I spent a lot more time crying with my worst enemy than with my boyfriend!”

Anya smiled wisely. “Well, then maybe you need to reevaluate your choice in enemy, and your choice in boyfriend!” she said triumphantly.

“Are you still on this?” Buffy demanded, shaking her head. “Spike and I aren’t dating. Or anywhere close to dating. Or even friends.”

Anya shrugged. “It just seems like you two would be good together. That’s all. But that’s not what this is about. This is Riley making you feel like you’re the villain. He’s been basically cheating on you, and then he turns it all back on you? If he can’t handle his own insecurities, then maybe he’s not what you need.”

She left the Magic Box, the rage gone and in its place a dwindling despair. She’d lost Riley. Maybe it wasn’t her fault, but she was still going to have to say goodbye to another boyfriend.

Unbidden, her feet led her to Restfield, to Spike’s crypt’s…open door? Worry for him made her speed up, and peer inside before charging in.

Riley was there.

Surprised, she watched as Spike and Riley drank together like old friends, their voices too low for her to hear until she inched closer.

“-the lucky guy,” she heard Riley finish. He didn’t sound happy about it.

“Come on in, Slayer,” Spike offered, rising from his armchair to give her a seat.

He doubled over in pain when he stood, and she rushed to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing too dire. Just the big boys tussling,” he managed, sinking back down into the chair.

“But the chip-!”

“Or maybe not,” Riley murmured, staring at them, and she whirled on him.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

He sighed. “What does it matter? It’s Spike.”

Spike settled back, watching them sharply.

“So, what, it’s okay to hurt him because he’s defenseless?” She conveniently forgot her own violence toward him the night before. Please. He probably took it as foreplay. “What did you do to him?”

“Why do you care?” Riley demanded. “You beat him up for information all the time. He’s just a thing. A vampire. He doesn’t matter.”

“Like your little vamp hos don’t matter?” she snapped. “They might be demons, but that doesn’t make it okay to use them for your own purposes. I don’t believe this.”

“So you’re choosing Spike over me?” Riley asked disbelievingly.

“That’s not what this is!” Buffy said, exasperated. “This is about you, and me, and how we’re just not good together! Not if you have to go somewhere else to feel needed. If you can’t take me as I am, then don’t take me at all!”

“Fine,” Riley said finally. “I get it.”

“You really don’t,” Buffy muttered, turning away. She heard him get up and walk to the door.

“Buffy,” he said finally. “I’m leaving at midnight. If we can’t work this out…”

“You are unbelievable,” Buffy said incredulously. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

Riley sighed. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! You expect me to get over it now or you’re gone!” She paced back and forth, avoiding Spike’s eyes and not turning to face Riley’s.

“I’m leaving, Buffy. Unless you give me a reason to stay…” He waited expectantly.

She refused to look back until he finally walked out, defeated.

“Wanker,” Spike spoke at last.

She rounded on him, ready to rip at him. But he just shook his head sadly. “If you were mine, pet, I’d never let you go.”

She met his eyes then, saw the raw honesty in them and looked down. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said finally, lifting his shirt to find the wound Riley had left.

He was silent for most of the time, for which Buffy was grateful.

“Take care of yourself,” she murmured before she left.

“Same to you,” he whispered, raising his fingers in farewell. “Ta, love.”

She went home then, and spent the rest of the day catching up on the sleep she’d lost the night before. Dawn had slept at Janice’s, thankfully, so it was just her, and she slept better than she had in a long time.

When she next woke up, it was twenty minutes to midnight.

She rolled over and went back to sleep.