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Chapter 1

"Hey, Got a kiss for me, Spike?"

"Sure, Mrs G. Here, I got your mail."

"Pass it through, sweetheart. They've been round again."

Spike fed the letters one by one to the wrinkled hand poking through the gap in the door. Half a face peered out at him, thin and old.

"Who've been round again? The aliens?"

"Told them to go away, I did. Not getting me for that abduction stuff. What've you done to your hair?"

"Bleached it, what do ya think?"

"Makes you look like a poof. Not kissing you with hair like that."

"You think so? Thought it was sort of cool. How're you doing in there?. You had something to eat today?"

"Yeah, chef prepared me something. You gonna give me that kiss then?"

"Whenever you're ready, Mrs G." He pulled at his tie, loosening the knot. "Gotta get a shower and stuff, hard day."

"Ahh, you don't want to kiss me, I'm too old and wrinkly. Prefer her upstairs, don't you? That her mail?"

"Yep. Don't forget to switch off the telly when you go to bed."

"I won't Jack. Why are you standing in the hall?"

"I'm not Jack love. Jack's gone. I'm Spike, your landlord, remember?"

Confused eyes stared for a moment, then lit up. "I could teach you a thing or two, young man. Tiger in bed, I was."

Spike turned for the stairs, laughing as he went. "I bet you could that. You take care now." He climbed, working at the tie knot, pulling it free from his collar and stuffing it into his pocket. At least Mrs. G paid her rent. Her upstairs was two months behind, and he had no idea what to do about it. Way too much of a soft touch to call her on it.

Nice one Spike. Wonderful investment opportunity. Big house, three apartments. Live in one, rent out the other two. Simple.

Except for the batty tenant on the ground floor, who thought he was her husband, and whose hobby seemed to be propositioning him at every opportunity. And for the charity case with the kid and the psychotic ex husband on the next floor. Whose drunken attempts to win back his wife were becoming more than a problem.

She'd come with glowing references that one. Rental agent must have seen him coming a mile off. Trouble is she had those eyes. The ones that made you feel like the world's biggest shit because you asked for rent. For an apartment that you own, that she's supposed to be renting. That's how it worked. Usually. But not this time. Because they saw him coming, that's why.

All hard and sharp on the outside, world's biggest softie in the middle.

And god help her, she had a kid with those eyes too. Between the pair of them it was like an advert for the SPCA. You know, take me home with you today and I'll be your friend for life, cue big puppy dog eyes that made you melt inside and form a line.

Bills, more bills. He flicked through her mail. Bills that she couldn't pay. That her worthless excuse of an ex husband was supposed to be helping to pay. Only all he ever did was call round to shout abuse through the door when he'd had a skinful on a Saturday night. And any other night that he remembered how good the sex with her had been, and he wanted some.

It wasn't going to end in hugs and puppies. No way. He couldn't very well stand by and listen to her and the kid crying as that prat pounded on the door, could he? Reckoned it was part of his landlordly duties. Like collecting rent.

Yep, him and Angel were going to come to blows, and soon. And he wasn't looking forward to it.

"Buffy?" He didn't knock, never knocked. Knew it scared the hell out of them. Never met anyone who was scared of knocking before. She'd near enough jumped out of her chair the last time he'd been there and someone had knocked on the door. Niblet had run into the bedroom and got in the closet, for gods sake.

"Buffy, Dawn? You in there. Got your mail."

Squealing noises, the sound of three bolts being thrown back, two faces, one anxious, one not. A tiny body squeezing round the door, small arms around his legs, tiny hands grabbing at his trouser legs.

"Uncle Spike. What did you do to your hair?"

He bent down and swept her up, swinging her into the air, pretending to drop her. Making her squeal some more. Small arms around his neck this time, a soft cheek against his. Fingers in his hair.

"What've you got me, Uncle Spike?"

"That's not very polite Dawnie."

She looked tired, and she hadn't dressed yet. He flicked a glance at his watch, squirming as Dawnie stuck her hand in his jacket pocket. Five o' clock and she wasn't dressed yet.

"I've found it mommy." Dawnie held up the candy bar, then planted a wet kiss on Spike's cheek, hugging him tight. "I love you Spike. You're better than daddy. Tell him mommy, he's better than daddy, isn't he?"

"Anyone's better than daddy, Dawnie. Get down now, I need to talk to Spike."

Spike put her down and watched her run back into the apartment. Kisses for rent, that's all he got. He knew what Buffy was going to say.

She ran a hand through blond hair that hadn't been combed, and gave him those eyes. Those I can't afford to pay my rent again eyes. Those instant, bloody, hard-on eyes. He closed his jacket just in case and handed over the bills. She stared at them for a moment, then at him. He put them in his pocket. Bloody soft touch he was. Couldn't have them cut off her electric and stuff, could he?

Now he was getting the smile. Bloody expensive smile, though. The door opened wide, she wrapped her ratty robe around her and stood back.

"Like the hair, coffee?"

"Could murder one."

"I'll see if I've got some milk. Make yourself a space on the couch."

"Black's fine. How's the computer?"

He followed her into the kitchen, leaned on the doorframe. "Need any help?"

"Would you, Spike? Damned thing's gone and died on me again. You know, when it rains…"

"No problem, pet. When did it go?"

"Last night. Haven't updated the site in a week."

Now it was the trembly lip. The eyes he could just about resist, but when she did that lip thing he had to turn away, cos she was darned real near irresistible. Robe falling open too. Nice bit of flesh peeping over the top. He tried not to look, he really did. Niblet was back, arms around his legs again, looking up at him, adoring.

"You should marry mommy, then you could be my daddy."

"Dawnie." They both spoke at once, she turned back to the sink, he crouched down.

"You've got a daddy Dawnie, but I like being Uncle Spike. That okay with you?"

Big smile, another hug. He'd never been so hugged.

"Come watch Barney with me."

"Dawnie, Spike's going to fix the computer, leave him alone for a bit, will you?"

"Okay, mommy. He can fix the computer, and watch Barney."

"Go in Niblet, I'll just be a minute."

Buffy filled the kettle, put it on the stove, made a token attempt at tidying a mess she'd lost control of ages ago.

"I can't pay the rent again."

"I know."

"Look, Spike, we'll move out, this isn't fair on you. You bought this place to make money, not as a homeless shelter. I'm looking for somewhere else."

"You going back to him?"

Hands in her hair again. Face that told him she knew she looked awful, as ratty as the robe. Only she didn't really. She could have been wearing a bin bag and he'd still have had to do his jacket up.

Bloody adorable, that's what she was. And a bloody idiot he was, mooning about after her, bribing the kid with candy bars. Mending her computer. Fending off the prat All on a promise of nothing. She'd been burned, she had. And it was still raw. Wasn't looking for a replacement any time soon. He could tell that much.

Happy to take him for a sucker though. Just as happy as he was to be one. She got to not pay her rent or bills and he got to ogle her when he thought she wasn't looking, got to sit by her on the sofa, got to smell her when she passed just that bit too close and got to mend her computer when the bloody thing died on her.

Which luckily, was all the time these days.

He took the coffee. Watched her shake her head.

"No, he wants me back though. You heard him Spike."

"Yeah, whole bloody street heard him. Get a restraining order Buffy. Think of Dawnie."

"I know, I know."

He followed her into the living room, watched her throw toys and clothes off the sofa on to the floor, sat by her when she patted the seat next to her.

"You look tired, love. Are you sleeping?"

"Not really, keep thinking he's gonna turn up, you know?"

He didn't know, really, but he nodded anyway. He hadn't had a bad life. Oh, he'd had his share of women leaving him, the pain of a long term relationship breaking up, but nothing like this. Landed on his feet, he did. Had himself a good wallow, then dusted himself off. and got on with it. On to bigger and better things. His first two books were selling well, he'd just landed an advance on the third, and today he'd been talking with film studio executives about rights to a TV series. It didn't come any better.

"Look, next time he comes, call me, okay?"

"No, Spike, you don't know what he's like when he's in that kind of mood."

She leaned her head back on the couch. Nice smooth lines, under her chin, neck, right down to her cleavage. He wondered if she knew she was doing it, whether she was doing it on purpose. Those bills needed paying.

She rolled her head sideways to look at him, he turned away, guiltily. A small body squeezed between them and wriggled into place, head on his chest, a small sigh. Someone's paradise, but not hers.

Not the larger of the two females to whom he was rapidly becoming some sort of knight in shining armour. Good job he'd never gone into business. How the hell would he ever make any money if he kept giving it away like this?

He could see she wasn't a natural blond. Something they had in common then. Niblet's hands pushed into his hair, combing the strands up straight.

"Eugh, what did you do, Uncle Spike, you've gone all sticky?"

"My new image, love. Gotta have an image if I'm gonna be famous."

"Will you be like Barney on the tv?"

"Yeah, gonna paint myself purple and do a silly dance."

"Mommy, did you hear that, Uncle Spike's gonna be purple."

Bit of a smile, nice to see it when money wasn't involved. Nice to see any reaction other than resignation. Maybe after a while, your features just sort of set, because they know what to expect. Know that life's not going to get any better so you might as well get used to it.

She had that expression that said it all. Despair, hopelessness. Can't be bothered any more. What's the point? Made the smile a bit more special. Had to make an effort for that. Niblet got down and joined in with Barney's crazy dance. Made them both laugh, that. Both of them sitting on her sofa, heads back, looking at each other now. Sharing a moment.


(thoughts)
**God, you're gorgeous Buffy. Wish you were mine. How could that wanker do this to you? Wish I'd got to you first. You know, don't you? Know you've got me by the short and curlies. Know I'll always be standing by, hopefully, just in case. What's going on in that head of yours? **


------------------------------------------------------------

(thoughts)
**Mend my computer, Spike. Wave a magic wand and make this all go away. Take me somewhere, anywhere. Away from all this. I'm pregnant, Spike. What the hell am I gonna do? **


"What're you thinking, Spike?"

"Nothing. Big match tomorrow, got a meeting with Warner Brothers. You?"

"Same. Only without the match and the Warner Brothers."

She sat up, propped her arm on the back of the couch. "Did you say Warner Brothers?"

"Yep. We're talking a TV series. Nothing final yet, but is sounds good."

"Spike, that's wonderful. I'm really pleased for you."

"Ahh, we'll see."

"Don't be so modest."

He was a funny mixture. The hair? So typical of him. Went with the cheekbones, the blue eyes, the cheeky grin. The swagger, the sharp talk. But what you saw wasn't what you got with this one, no way. There was another Spike in there somewhere. Someone who was too generous and kind for his own good. Someone who remembered to buy candy bars for little girls when her own dad never did. Someone who probably helped old ladies across the road.

And someone who saved lives. Like hers.

"Want me to look at that computer, then?"

A small nod was all she could manage. Hated the early stages of pregnancy. How could something so small make you feel so tired? Couple that with the worry of actually being pregnant when it was the worst possible time in the history of the universe to be, and there was no energy left for anything else but wondering why she kept on making the same mistake time after time. Why she kept on letting Angel in. Kept on believing the lies.

Why, when there were good men in the world, she only ever managed to pick the bad ones.

She watched Spike take a swig of his coffee, take off his jacket and throw it across a chair. Roll up his shirt sleeves, settle himself in front of the computer.

He was nice, very nice. And she could be interested. He was, that was obvious enough, but there just wasn't enough energy to think about stuff like that. When it was Spike doing all the running, helping with the bills, being nice about the rent, buying presents for Dawn, taking down the trash, bringing up the mail, she could just about cope. But anything else, and she only had to say the word, meant having to comb her hair and go places and listen to his problems. And get dressed and talk to people.

And that all required effort. And for that she'd need energy. Which she didn't have. There was nothing to spare for anyone except Dawnie right now, and she got precious little in the way of mothering. Little wonder she was all over Spike all the time.

She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of Dawnie going ape over her Barney video, wishing she could shut out the sound as well, but knowing Dawnie would have a blue fit if she switched it off. Didn't anyone realise the damage that this purple dinosaur did to people's nerves?

Closed her eyes to shut out the sight of Spike working so earnestly and intently at her computer. Made her feel less guilty if she didn't watch him. Made her feel less like she was using him.

He always had so much energy, it made her tired to just look at him sometimes. Always ran up the stairs, always the big grin. He had enough for the both of them, so she could just lie here and not be anything for a while, because while Spike was here, just for a little while, she could pretend that everything was okay.


------------------------------------------------


"Hey, I've cracked it."

Spike leaned back in his chair, stretched out, looked at his watch. Six o' clock. God, that'd been a job and a half.

"Want me to do these updates?"

They were both asleep. Niblet face down on the carpet, Buffy still as he'd left her in the chair. Telly crackling. He got up, switched it off, scooped up the Niblet Noticed Buffy stirring.

"Hey." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake Dawnie. "Shall I take her through?"

Buffy nodded, slightly bemused, looking around as if she'd forgotten where she was. "Do you want me to…"

"No, stay there, I've got her." He motioned her down. "You can sort her later, yeah?"

She pushed her hair back from her face, nodded to him and dropped back down.

"Thanks Spike. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"No prob, love."

When he came back she was sitting at the computer, hair behind her ears, looking as perky as he'd seen her in a long time. She turned and flashed him another smile. Must be his lucky day. He walked over and stood behind her, elbow on the back of the chair, leaning down so his face was level with hers.

"There's a new chapter of Random Hearts."

"Yeah, I saw. Thanks Spike, I hate leaving the site neglected like this. Did you read it?"

"Yeah, I read it, you'll never believe what happened."

"Wow, look at all these mails."

"You're a popular lady."

"They want their updates."

"Well, I guess people kinda get addicted to this sort of thing. It's not your fault if you can't do it. Don't worry about it. Get up, I'll do the updates, you fix us something to eat, yeah?"

She turned back to the computer, stared fixedly at the screen.

"Not hungry."

Her skin looked almost transparent this close up. Had a blue tinge, she was so white. Dammit, this was California, how could you get so white in California? Pale didn't come into it. He guessed the fridge was empty.

"I'll phone for a pizza, yeah?"

"Not hungry, Spike."

"Well, I am." It was always like this. Bloody website, only thing that kept her going, apart from Dawn. Computer wasn't going to last long though, didn't have the heart to tell her. And she couldn't afford a new one, that was for sure.

Thin shoulders, way too thin. If anyone needed pizza, she did. He got out his phone and dialled the number.

"Got a nice bottle of wine, shall I fetch?" He pulled up a chair, waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Earth calling Buffy."

"Dammit." She closed her eyes. Opened them. Glared at the screen then banged both hands down hard on the keyboard. "Why won't it work?"

She pushed him away as he leaned over.

"No, Spike. You won't always be here, taking care of stuff for me. I gotta be able to do this."

More emotion. Anger, but at least she was feeling something. You need to feel, or you stop altogether.

He watched her beat the keyboard for a few more moments, until he began to fear for its life, then he circled her wrists with his hands and held on. Too thin here too, held her gently in case she snapped. She felt brittle, as if she'd shatter at the slightest pressure.

"No, I can't always be here, but I'm here now, let me help. Or better still, leave it. Updates can wait."

Cheeks nice and pink now, suited her, anger did. Better than the cool blue of her despair.

"Are you kidding? Did you read those mails?"

"Oh soddit."

He let go of one hand and before she could stop, him he'd pulled the plug.

Those bloody eyes again. Enormous. Incredulous. You could drown in there just like the poets said.

"You killed my computer."

"Mercy killing."

She laughed. Long and hard. Started him off. Tears pouring down her face as she pointed in turn at him and the computer.

He laughed with her, not quite sure what the joke was, but needing to join in. Let her know that there were some things left to laugh at. Even if it was your own misfortune.

She calmed down at last, covered her eyes for a moment, then peeked through her fingers.

"You're crazy, Spike. Look at your hair."

"And you're mad." He circled her wrist again, drew her out of the chair. Steered her back to the sofa.

It felt like a dance. In his mind it was.

"Look at you. Like some bloody tragic Shakesperean heroine. What's with the ratty robe?"

"Full of compliments, aren't we?"

She looked at him sideways, pulling the robe to her. Not angry exactly, something he couldn't define. She did that sometimes. He guessed when she needed to get control of things. A little look that made his heart flip, then she'd turn away, knowing that he'd be right there behind her.

"Shall I get the wine?"

"Told you I'm not hungry, Spike."

"Sorry love, you're eating if I have to feed it you."

She flopped back down on the sofa, lifted her hair, let it drop. Gave him that look again.

"God, you sound like my mom."

"Someone bloody has to."

He picked up his jacket, searched the pocket. Took out twenty dollars. Dropped it in her lap.

"Pay the pizza boy. I'll go get that wine."





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