When she returned home shortly after six o’clock, Willow found the vampire and the slayer conferring in intimately hushed tones in the dining room. She couldn’t, at first, determine what surprised her the most. That they seemed closer than she had expected a few days earlier didn’t seem to be a shock after all, but that she’d been able to startle them was. Surely, she thought, the two supernatural-types should have been able to hear her and the girls drive up and stomp into the house. She could tell from their expressions that they hadn’t. She wondered what they had been discussing, whatever it was must have been quite distracting. She was tempted to ask, but doubted that they would tell her. She wondered if she was still Buffy’s best friend.

Even with her mind tumbling through all the mysteries that were Buffy and Spike and herself and Buffy, she noted happily the mostly eaten sandwich on the plate sitting in front of Buffy. She wasn’t sure when she’d last seen the other girl eat. She was sure that Buffy had lost enough weight to go down a cup size at Victoria’s Secret. Not that she thought about Buffy that way, it was just the kind of thing good friends noticed.

“Will!” Buffy blushed as she stood up. “You’re—you’re back already.”

Willow laughed. “Yep, after only ten hours of refereeing fights over sleeping bags and what are apparently the last pair of doc martins in a size 8 in the whole of Sunnydale, we have returned.”

“Ten…Oh!” Buffy stared openly at the clock. “Oh.” She grabbed nervously at her plate and scurried over to the trash to dump the remains. “We—we were just talking about The First. You know, trying to figure out if he—it,” she shrugged before continuing “has any plans.”

Willow nodded. “Oh that reminds me, I was thinking I should check out those symbols, the ones…umm on Spike. They might tell us something.” She turned to look at Spike quizzically.

Holding back the urge to look over at Buffy, he nodded casually and pushed himself up. Spike noted the other questions in Willow’s gaze but figured he wouldn’t have been able to answer them even if he’d wanted to. The quick distance that Buffy had placed between them at the arrival of her friend had certainly not escaped his notice. He told himself that it didn’t matter; she’d already given him more than he’d dared hope for. He’d told her that he’d die for her; it seemed silly to get upset because she didn’t want to snuggle in front of her friends. It seemed silly, but it still hurt. “Should be healed soon. Best do this now.” He reached down and tugged his shirt up over his head. He almost managed to hide his wince of pain. His scuffle with Buffy outside the bathroom had undone a good deal of his earlier healing and probably added another broken rib to the list.

Willow focused on the half-healed scars. He was right, she noticed, they would probably be gone by morning. Already they were simply raised white lines against his vampire pale skin. There were several of them and she tried not to think about how they’d gotten there. She’d seen worse. Hell, she’d done worse, but she didn’t like to think about it.

Buffy’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. The too-large sweatpants that she’d given him rode perilously low on his hips. She looked away quickly, but not quickly enough. It shouldn’t have affected her; she’d seen him before and under far more arousing circumstances. This was about the mission. They were up against something that made all their previous apocalypses look like playground skirmishes. Willow needed to study the symbols that The First had carved into his skin. She needed to look for clues. Buffy argued with herself. He was hurt. She could see fresh bruising on his side. It didn’t matter. The brief glimpse was enough to make her ache.
She balled up her fists. It was all the touching and talking. She’d let down too many walls. She’d opened herself up to wanting him. She gave him a furtive glance. He appeared to be watching Willow. He answered a questioned with a regretful shake of his head. Buffy wasn’t fooled. He knew. She watched his nostrils flare as he inhaled and almost whimpered when he raised a single eyebrow in questioning acknowledgment.

“Umm…” She wrung her hands. “If you’re going to be here for a few minutes, I’ve got a couple of things to do.” She didn’t even wait for Willow’s distracted nod before hurrying upstairs.

Spike watched her leave with a small smile.

Willow grabbed a well-used sketch pad from the counter and jotted down each symbol. “Do you remember if there was any chanting or spell casting when these were made?”

Spike frowned. “No. I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “I was a little distracted.”

Willow’s cheeks grew pink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No worries, Red. Wasn’t insulted. It’s just the truth. I don’t remember any chanting, but there could’ve been.”

She nodded before turning her eyes to the dark blue bruise coloring his side. “I don’t—I don’t think I can heal you. You’re not—Earth magics can mend live tissue, I mean all living things are part of the Earth so it’s like it’s healing itself but…”

“I’m not living.”

“Not exactly.” She frowned. “I might be able to help with the pain though. A little spell.”

He shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but it’s nothing I can’t handle and the magics…well, I’d rather not play with it if I don’t have to.”

“I can understand that.” She was tempted to tease that having Buffy play nurse was probably helping more than she could anyway, but wasn’t sure if it was her place. She hated not knowing her place.

Buffy cleaned up, brushed her teeth, used the bathroom in blissful solitude and gave Dawn a quick call before heading back downstairs.

Anya and the potential slayers had set up camp in front of the television. They had a couple of pizzas and a stack of DVDs. Buffy nodded to Anya, grateful that someone else was seeing to the girls for the time being. Training was important, but she knew the girls also needed to get some rest and a chance to get to know each other. It would make them a stronger team.

A guilty voice in the back of her mind countered that she was shirking her responsibilities to them in order to spend time with Spike. She pushed down that voice with a reminder that Spike was her strongest soldier and that he was important to the mission.

She followed the sound of Willow’s voice back into the dining room. Spike’s shirt was back on. She gave a quick sigh of relief and avoided meeting his eyes. “So do those symbols mean anything to you?”

Willow shook her head. “No, not yet. I’ll get on the research wagon tonight.”

Buffy nodded. “Good.” She watched her friend anxiously for a moment and wondered how much she knew. Had Willow heard what Spike had been saying to her when she’d walked in to the dining room earlier? Had she noticed that she had had her hand resting on his arm? Hell, Buffy acknowledged to herself, for all I know Willow can read minds now. She sighed before noticing that the other girl was about to leave. “Oh! Will, I think we may have figured out the trigger.”

Willow turned to her, surprised.

“It was the song. I think—” She gave Spike a quick questioning glance. “I think we figured out why the song was working and so it won’t work anymore. I think he’s…de-triggered. I mean we’ll have to be careful for awhile until we can test it, but I’m thinking no more trigger.”

“That’s great! How did you…” She stopped herself mid-sentence. Buffy had clearly avoided giving any details. Willow figured that she would do best if she waited until she and Buffy were alone to ask for more information. “That’s great.”

The two women shared a quiet smile. Both wanted to say so much more to the other. Both got lost in the memories of times when they would have.

“We still have to be careful.” Spike’s voice interrupted their reverie. “We can’t be too sure yet.”

Buffy nodded.

“So you’re still on vamp-sitting duty.” Willow pointed out, trying to hold back her grin. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she was growing increasingly sure that Buffy had feelings for Spike and found her current excuse to spend time with him more than a little entertaining.

“Yeah.” Buffy flushed. “I mean we can’t be too safe, so…umm…I’ll be downstairs tonight.”

Willow nodded before looking up to catch Spike’s eyes. “Be careful.”


Spike followed Buffy down to the basement and watched her pace with an amused expression. He knew that seeing Willow had flustered her. He tried not to think about how much it would hurt if she took back all the things she had said that day.

She paused when she noticed him watching her and reached up to check her hair anxiously. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.” He said it quietly but in a determined tone.

He’d caught her by surprise and she gasped softly before giving him a shy smile. “Not too hard on the eyes yourself, mister.”

“Yeah, you want me.” He teased gently before swallowing hard. He couldn’t read her expression and suspected that she had a dozen thoughts running through her head.

“I do.” She trembled as she watched the effect her words had on him but didn’t step closer.

He froze, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But?” He asked quietly.

She glanced up the stairs to the unlocked door. “I don’t…” She shrugged and whispered. “What if I can’t do it?”

“Can’t…” Confused, his brows came together for a moment. Just as quickly, he paled. “Because of what I did. Because if I touch you—”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t mean that.” She stepped towards him, once, twice. “I mean this.” She gestured back and forth between them. “Us. What if I just can’t do a relationship? What if I drive you away too?”

He stood up and quickly closed the distance between them. His hand cupped her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, pet.”

“But—”

“You can’t get rid of me.” He grinned. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He leaned in and touched his forehead to hers.

Buffy shook. It was happening too fast. She hadn’t figured it all out yet. Her arms lifted up to slid around his neck, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. The Slayer couldn’t admit fear, but maybe the girl still could. “I’m scared.” Her words were barely a whisper.

The breath he’d been holding came out as a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah, me too. Bloody terrified.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed softly and looked up at him. “The timing is awful. I mean, with everything that’s going on—we should be focused on the mission—we don’t have—”

“And when this is done there’ll be something else.”
Buffy frowned. She wished that she could believe otherwise, but he was right. There was always something. There would always be a reason to put it off. And maybe that was just one more reason that they shouldn’t even try. She sighed.

Spike ran his hands up and down her arms to slow her shivering. “And I’ll still be here. I can wait, Buffy. If that’s—I can wait, but I could make you happy. If you’d let me.” He cupped her face in his palms. He had to make his case, one more time. She was listening this time. It could be different. He had to try. He loved her too much to hold it in. “I know I’m not much, I know that you deserve so much better, but…I’m yours, Buffy. Body, soul, whatever else there is to me—it’s yours and I—I could make you happy. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

He saw tears in her eyes, but no answer. He couldn’t wait. Spike pressed his lips to hers for a tentative kiss.

It was the hesitation in his kiss that did it. Always before, Buffy thought, his kisses had been demanding. She’d felt like he wanted to consume her. Always he’d been grasping so desperately for her love, taking more than she could give. But this was different. He was different and she was. She pressed more deeply into the kiss for a moment before pulling away. “You’re a good man. I know you don’t see it yet, but I do.” She nodded. “I do.” Buffy made up her mind. She stepped away and reaching down to pull his hand into hers, led him over to the cot they’d shared the night before. “Maybe we could both get a little happy.”