Buffy moved her neck uncomfortably, grimacing at how stiff it was. Squinting her eyes open, she saw that just a little light was seeping into the car, the rest having been successfully blacked out by the vampire that she was lying against.
She traced her fingers along the pattern of the fleece blanket draped over them. Spike's arms were curled around her waist, keeping her loosely in place. She gave a small smile, and her finger around his wrist.
They were in the sitting position, his back resting against the car door, his feet touching off of the other. She was lying on top of him, head against his chest.
She tightened the blanket around herself, hoping to God that he had locked the doors. She flushed with embarrassment as she imagined some curious employee opening the door and finding them in this compromising situation.
"Mornin' Slayer." His cool breath tickled her cheek.
She turned to face him. "Hi," she said shyly. "I didn't know you were awake."
"Yeah, I felt you movin'."
"Sorry." She gave him a sheepish smile.
"Trust me, pet, I'm so bloody delighted right now, I couldn't care less if you woke me or not, Nothin' could spoil my mood now."
"That's good..." She moved out of his embrace, wrapping the blanket around herself.
He frowned. "Where are you goin'?"
"I'm getting dressed," she replied, reaching for her dress from where it lay abandoned on the floor in the front of the car.
He grabbed her by the waist, and yanked her back onto his lap.
"Hey!" She cried out indignantly.
"Stop wrigglin', woman." He held her firm, ignoring her glare. "Are we back here again, or what? I mean, you end things... then last night you're all ... amazin', and wonderful. All soft kisses and bein' bloody nice to me. But you're jus' gonna up an' leave once you've got what you wanted, is that it? That wasn't just another quick shag last night. I felt somethin', an’ you bloody well did too. So, no. I can't let you leave like this."
"It wasn't like before, Spike," she whispered. "I know it wasn't, and I'm not trying to do that all over again. I did feel something, I really did, but we're in your car, who only knows what time it is, and I'm pretty sure that I've left Dawn all night. So, I actually want to stay, Spike, but I really can't."
She slid off of his lap with no resistance from the vampire, and pulled herself into the dress.
"You want to stay?" Spike asked quietly.
She looked at him with a small smile. "I really do. More than I can say, actually. But I have responsibilities, and you know that." She turned for a moment, holding her dress in place. "Will you zip?" She twisted her back around to him.
"Here," he murmured, tugging the zipper upwards. When he finished, he planted a soft kiss onto the nape of her neck.
She shivered, and leaned back against him, eyes closed. He ran his fingers down her arms, until he was holding her hands. He gave them a gentle squeeze.
They stayed like that for a moment, the Slayer lying contentedly against the vampire, as he nuzzled her neck and shoulders softly. Eventually, Buffy sighed, and turned to face him.
She kissed his cheek lightly, then climbed into the front of the car, and settled herself into the passenger seat.
She looked back at the dumbstruck vampire, and raised her eyebrows. "What?" She asked innocently. When he didn't answer, she smirked and scooped his jeans up from the floor of the car, and tossed them to him. "Get dressed," she smiled. "You gotta drive me home."
He did as he was told, wearing a dazed smile on his face as he tugged his jeans on. He got into his seat beside her, shirtless, and switched on the engine. She took in his bare chest. "Show-off," she muttered under her breath.
He shot her a cocky grin. "What can I say, luv? If you've got it..." He laughed as she shoved him playfully. "You're in a hell of a good mood today," he chuckled.
She tugged at her dress. "Yeah, I am," she admitted. "Weird, huh?"
He nodded. "Very weird." He drove the car out of the alleyway.
They sat in silence, as Buffy fiddled with the knobs of the radio. He reached out and turned up the volume. She gave him a quick smile, and settled back in her seat, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"Tired?"
She shrugged. "A little. Could've done with a little more sleep, I guess."
He peered through the small slit in his windscreen. "Well, we're not far from your house anyways, pet, so you can get all the sleep you want then."
She sat up straighter. "Could you drop me at the top of the street? There's enough drama, without the guys wondering why you're dropping me to the door after I've been out all night... I'm sorry."
He nodded. "It's alright, this time, luv." He pulled the car over at the top of Revello Drive.
She paused for a moment, before leaning in to give him a soft, chaste kiss on the lips.
"Thank you, Spike." She reached for the door handle.
"Here, put this on," he said, grabbing his discarded shirt from the back and tossing it to her. "Rained pretty hard last night. And besides, you look like a bloody mermaid."
She shot him her best Slayer look, and he laughed.
"Goodbye." The quirk of her lips belied her tone.
He smiled at her. "Bye, pet."
Buffy climbed out of the car, and shut the door quickly to avoid letting any of the sun’s deadly rays hit him.
Stepping up onto the curb, she raised her hand to wave goodbye, but then sheepishly realised that he wouldn’t be able to see her through the blackened windows. As he pulled away, she tugged the black shirt on, fastening a couple of buttons.
She walked along the pavement to 1630, side-stepping large puddles as she went. “Mermaid, my ass,” she muttered.
Arriving home, she slipped through the front door, shutting it quietly. She hurriedly moved to sneak up the stairs.
“Buffy?”
She froze on the staircase, cursing under her breath. Turning around, she fixed a false grin on her face.
“Hey Will, what’s up?”
The redhead stood in the foyer, a frown creasing her forehead.
“You didn’t come home last night…”
Buffy waved her hand breezily. At least, she hoped she looked breezy. “Oh, you know, monsters to slay, civilians to protect. Slayer package and all.”
“You were… patrolling?”
“Yep.”
“All night?”
“What can I say, busy night, huh?”
“…In your bridesmaid dress?”
Crap. Buffy had forgotten about that little detail. “Um, well, yeah. Didn’t have a chance to come home and change, busy fighting the evil and all.” Cue perky grin.
“We were really worried, Buffy. Dawn was pretty upset after the wedding, you know.” Willow was pulling that face again, the one that let Buffy know she’d done wrong. God, she was getting sick of that disapproving expression.
“I’m sorry, Will. I’ll go talk to Dawnie, have a sisterly day or something. I just sort of want a shower and a nap first, ‘kay?”
Her friend nodded. “Alright, she’s upstairs doing some overdue studying.”
With one last forced smile, Buffy turned and continued up the stairs. Stopping by her sister’s room, she peeked inside.
“Hey.”
Her sister looked up from her textbook. “Buffy? Where were you? We were really worried when you didn’t come home last night.”
Buffy repressed a sigh. “Just doing some slay-age, you know?”
“All night? Tara thought you might be looking for Xander.”
Guilt grew in the pit of her stomach. Oh, God, how had she forgotten?
“He hasn’t come back yet?”
“No, Anya called this morning, but Xander didn’t come home either. Do you think he’s alright?” Dawn implored, big eyes filled with worry.
Buffy swallowed. “I hope so, Dawnie. It’s looking kinda complicated, but I think he just needs time to figure out what he wants.”
“Poor Anya,” her sister lamented.
The Slayer walked over and sat on the edge of Dawn’s bed. “Yeah,” she murmured. “It was really horrible, wasn’t it?”
“It was so sad! I mean, the look on her face when she walked back down the aisle…” Tears filled Dawn’s eyes. “Why can’t everybody just be happy around here, for once?”
There was that guilt stabbing at Buffy’s insides again. “I guess we’re all just having a hard time…”
Dawn sighed. “If you’re gonna give me the ‘you-wouldn’t-understand-it’s-an-grown-up’ thing, then save it. Pretty much know it off by heart by now.”
Buffy frowned. Dawn was becoming less and less easy to reach these days. Her tantrums were driving Buffy insane. She didn’t know how to get through to her. And of course, there had been all the acting out of the past year – namely making out with undead strangers, the big ole’ klepto issue, and her attitude. And Buffy didn’t have the slightest clue on how to solve these problems…
Dawn’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Where’d you get that shirt?”
“Hmm? What? … Oh, um… Somebody must’ve left it behind at the wedding, I guess…”
“Somebody left their shirt at the wedding?” Dawn arched her eyebrows, unconsciously mimicking a certain cocky vampire.
Buffy flushed. “Guess so. I just thought it would be cold after the rain, or something…”
Dawn nodded, and turned back to her discarded book. “Looks kinda like something Spike would wear,” she mentioned casually.
She froze. “Spike? What? Why would I have his shirt?”
Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know, he’d give you anything you wanted, and you’re selfish enough take everything from him.”
And, there it was. That sidelong look of betrayal on her sister’s face. Buffy knew that Dawn loved Spike – he’d taken care of her, been an older brother to her when Buffy herself had been… Guilt flushed through Buffy once more. She suddenly realized how much she had been hurting her sister too. Dawn missed Spike, and thanks to Buffy, the two of them rarely saw each other anymore. Damn.
“Dawnie, I …” She faltered. As her sister looked up expectantly, Buffy sighed. “I – I’m gonna go for a shower, so I’ll let you get some work done, ‘kay?”
“No problem,” was her sister’s sarcastic reply.
Rubbing her eyes wearily, Buffy stood up, left the room, and slipped into the bathroom.
She tugged the black shirt off, and set it down on the vanity table. Pulling herself out if the clingy bridesmaid dress, she smiled as she recalled Spike’s frustration the night before, trying to get the damned thing off. She hopped into the shower, and let the hot water wash all her worries away.
When she was finished, she stepped out of the tub, wrapping a thick towel around herself. Thoughts of comfy pajamas and soft beds filled her mind.
“Apocalypses be damned. Buffy’s getting’ comfy,” she muttered to herself. The Hellmouth wouldn’t go crazy if she rested for once. Besides, she’d patrol later, when she’d rested a little bit.
Happy with her reasoning, she left the bathroom in search of warm clothes, when Spike’s shirt caught her eye. With a sigh, she crossed the room, and picked it up.
In her bedroom, she dried off, putting on a pair of flannel pajama pants, and a tank top. She put Spike’s shirt back on, running her fingers along the buttons. She inhaled. It smelled like him, that oddly enticing combination of tobacco, whiskey, leather, and that scent that was completely unique to him.
Buttoning up the shirt, she moved to the windows, shutting the blinds against the bright light filtering into the room.
With a contented sigh, she slid into her cold bed, and fell asleep, surrounded in Spike’s scent.
Spike parked the Desoto at the back of a lot behind an abandoned motel, and sat back in the driver’s seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
“Bloody hell,” he marveled, closing his eyes in memory of the previous night. He thought of the tenderness that Buffy had treated him with, the soft and gentle touches that had passed between them. For the first time in their convoluted, fucked-up relationship, it felt like she had been making love to him, answering the moves he had danced so many times with her. He had always made love to her. That he had no doubt about. But she? She had always come to him and used him, knowing that he would give his entire self to her.
“Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me. You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass…”
The quote came to the fore of his mind every time that he had thought of Buffy’s manipulation. She hated his words, hated how he broke into her unreality. So she would shut him up. Clever hands and an enticing mouth that distracted him, coaxed him away from his intents and purposes.
But last night…
That silly smile tugged at the corners of his lips once more. Last night had been momentous, a change in the dance. He inhaled deeply, the car was filled with her scent, his scent, their scent.
He reached into the back of the car and grabbed the blanket that was pooled on the back seat. Something white winked at him from the floor.
That flower that she’d worn in her hair. He cupped it in his hand, and smiled, thinking of the beautiful smile she’d given.
“It’s nice to watch you be happy. For them, even. I don’t see it a lot. You, uh… You glow.”
“That’s because the dress is radioactive.”
He pressed the soft fleece of the blanket against his lips, anything to conceal the bloody grin that was consuming his face.
God, her smell was everywhere. That had been the worst part. When she’d left him in the burnt-out shell of his crypt, even the dirty acrid stench of burning hadn’t masked her scent. It wouldn’t leave him, it had seeped into the cushions of his couch, ingrained itself in the harsh stone walls.
No amount of angry scrubbing in his makeshift shower had erased her scent from his body.
Now, he welcomed it, letting it flow through him.
Shrugging his duster on, he slipped the floral hairpin into his pocket, and held the blanket over his head. Opening the door, he jumped out, kicked it shut, and disappeared down a sewer access, landing in one of the tunnels that was closest to his crypt. Balling the blanket up, he tucked inside his jacket to protect it from the dirt and stench of the tunnel.
Reaching the large piece of metal that covered the entrance to his crypt, he tugged it back, climbing through the gap that was left.
Moving through another tunnel, he made his way back to the underground space that served as a bedroom. Removing his leather duster, he set it on the wooden weapons chest in the corner. He took of his jeans, and slid into his bed, bringing the fleece blanket with him.
He shut his eyes, and slept, waiting for night to come.
“Buffy? Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping…”
Buffy rolled over. “Dawn?” She mumbled sleepily.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just wanted to apologize for earlier, for getting annoyed with you, and all…”
Her sister sat up in the bed, shaking her head. “Not your fault, Dawnie. I know you care about Spike, I do. And I am genuinely sorry that you guys don’t get to see each other anymore. Guess it’s because… Well, I can’t think of an excuse, being as sleepy as I am.”
The former Key hopped onto the bed beside her.
“Because you’re a big poop-head?” She offered, with a mischievous grin.
Buffy sighed in defeat. “Yes, Dawn, because I am a big poop-head.”
Dawn’s eyes glittered with mischief. “I knew it!” She announced, giggling as Buffy threw a pillow at her. “Hey!”
The older girl thumped her sister with another pillow, reaching to tickle her. Dawn doubled over, squealing. “No! Buffy! No fair! You’ve got the Slayer strength! Ah! You! Cheat-er!” She punctuated each syllable with a swing of her own pillow.
Laughing delightedly, Buffy playfully shoved the younger girl off of the bed. Dawn grabbed Buffy, and pulled her down, wreaking her own revenge of tickles on the Slayer.
“Ah! Daw-awn!” Buffy shrieked, rolling over on the floor.
The quiet tap on the bedroom door went unheard as Buffy squirmed and giggled manically on her bedroom floor.
Opening the door, the visitor paused to look down at the floor, in surprise, at the cackling teenage girl, and the Slayer who was screaming for mercy – a feat that even the fiercest demon could never hope to achieve.
“Should I pop back later then?”
Both girls looked up, startled.
Buffy blinked in surprise. “Spike? What’re you doing here?”
He shrugged. “You forgot something.” Reaching into the pocket of his duster, he pulled out the floral hairpiece that had been abandoned to the floor of the Desoto.
She flushed and stood up. She took it from him, and gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Dawn frowned. “Where’d she leave it?”
With a quick look at Buffy, Spike remained silent.
“Uh, um… It fell out, I guess. You know, with all the rough and tumble… Of patrol! We were patrolling. In the cemetery. Me and Spike. ‘Cause that’s what we do, with the slay-age, and all that. Yes, we were patrolling.” She didn’t need to look at Spike to know he was trying not to laugh.
“Uh huh. Okay then.” Dawn shrugged, figuring her sister was probably crazy anyway. “Hey, Spike, I’m gonna make some hot chocolate, you want some?” She asked, getting to her feet.
“Sounds good, Bit,” he smiled. “But I just wanna talk to big sis’ for a mo’, yeah?”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “‘Kay, I’ll be in the kitchen.” She walked out of the room, leaving the super-beings to be alone together.
With a sigh, Spike closed the door softly behind Dawn, and looked back at Buffy. She smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of her bed.
She joined him, and folded her legs underneath herself. “Thanks, again.” She waved the hairpin in the air.
He shrugged. “No problem. Looked nice in you, figured you’d want it back.”
She just nodded.
“The rough an’ tumble of patrol, eh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Buffy breathed out a laugh, and shook her head, smiling. “Oh, God, my big mouth…”
He moved closer to her, and touched his fingers to her lips. “Not big, pet. Jus’ perfect.”
She grinned against his fingers. “Uh huh, sweet talker, aren’t ya?”
“An’ don’t you forget it.”
Placing her own hand on his face, she traced his cheekbone. “Do you think she knew?”
“Nah, Bit’d be jumpin’ for bleedin’ joy if she did.”
“Mm, she would.” Ducking her head, Buffy sighed. “Spike, I’m sorry that you guys don’t hang out anymore. I really am. Dawnie and me had an almost fight about it. She resents me ‘cause I get to spend time with you, and I keep you away from her.”
“Doesn’t resent you, luv.”
“Do you? You miss her.”
Spike leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “Yeah, I miss her. But nothing could ever make me resent you, pet. Love you too much, don’t I?”
“I don’t want you to resent me, but you should hate me…But that would kill me.”
He pulled back. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Studying her for a moment, he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Is that my shirt?”
She looked down and blushed. “Your – your shirt? Oh! Look at that! It’s your shirt! Ha! Must’ve forgotten to take it off.” She gave a nervous laugh.
The corner of his mouth quirked. “So, you took of the dress, showered, and dressed again, keepin’ the shirt on all that time? Is that it, pet?”
“Maybe?” She shrugged sheepishly.
He chuckled. “Why did you put it back on?”
“I was going to bed, to get some sleep…” She gestured to the bed that they were sitting on.
“An’ what made you put it on, luv?”
“Because…”
“Buffy. Please.”
She sighed. “It smells like you,” she confessed in a whisper.
God, she couldn’t look at him. If she did, what could she possibly say now?
He didn’t let her say anything. Instead, he swiftly ducked his face down to hers, and captured her lips with his.
She responded immediately, her arms slipping around his neck as his banded around her waist. The kiss was soft, a continuation of these new tender touches. Her hand explored the curls at the nape of his neck, and Spike lost himself in the sweet and gentle way she was caressing his cool lips. As her tongue ran along the seam of his mouth, he opened willingly, and the kiss deepened, and he responded with fervor.
The next thing he knew, Buffy had pushed him backwards, sending him sprawling on his back on her bed. She leaned over him, kissing his jaw. He pulled her flush against him, burying his face in the softness of her neck. The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled his senses, drove him insane.
“Buffy…” He moaned, pulling her mouth back to his.
And they kissed. God, how they kissed.
Her hands moved, grabbing his duster, kneading the buttery leather beneath her fingers. His were exploring her waist, brushing the undersides of her breasts, burying themselves in her flaxen hair.
He rolled them over, so that he was above her. They broke the kiss, as she took a deep breath. Her gaze caught his, and she smiled.
“Buffy, I – ”
“Hey, Buffy, come down here, Xander’s back!” Dawn’s voice yelled up the stairs, shattering the moment.
They sighed in unison, and Spike moved off of her, lying beside her instead.
She looked at him with an apologetic smile. Her hand reached out and grabbed his, interlocking their fingers. She squeezed once, then let go.
“I should go; Scoobies need me and all that…”
He nodded, rising from the bed. “Yeah, guess the Whelp needs you.”
Buffy shook her head, and got up, quickly combing her fingers through her hair.
“Spike, we can finish this later, right? It’s just that they need me…”
“No, pet, it’s alright. Don’t worry. We’ll finish it when we finish it. An’ right now you need to be down there, consolin’ that git, and helpin’ him to realize that he’s jus’ made the biggest mistake of his life.”
“Right, consoling and helping. Check.” A weary smile. “We better go down there, and avoid the search party courtesy of Dawn.”
At his nod, they left the room, and headed downstairs. Xander was seated on the sofa, sandwiched between Dawn and Willow, who both wore worried expressions. The three of them looked up at Buffy and Spike’s entrance.
“Hey, Xan.”
He stood up, and enveloped the Slayer in a tight hug. “It’s really good to see you, Buff.”
She stepped back. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. In fact, the last time I felt so good was when the Master killed you, or when Angelus returned, or hey! When you died again. Or maybe, when the Mayor decided to become a big ole’ snake. Really can’t decide where ‘leaving-my-fiancé-at-the-altar’ rates.”
Buffy bit her lip. “I’m so sorry, Xan. I can’t even begin to understand how you must feel, but why? Why would you do it? I thought you guys were happy.”
“Yeah, we were happy. But for how long?” He asked bitterly. “How many years before I ruined her life?”
“What?” Buffy frowned, confused. “Is that why you left?”
“Just learnt how to see clearly, I guess.”
She shook her head. “The demon? The one that attacked Anya?”
“He gave me a little bit of insight, yeah.” He choked a laugh, and Buffy caught the scent of beer from his breath.
“You’ve been drinking,” she accused.
“So? You’re not my mom, Buff, so don’t try and act like it. I can drink if I want, whenever I want.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Well, don’t. Nothing you do can fix this.”
“Xander…” Willow reproached quietly.
“I’m sorry,” he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “It’s just – I can’t figure this out. It hurts so much, and I’m trying to figure this out!”
Buffy nodded. “You don’t need to explain to us.”
“Right.” He paused. “Have you seen her?”
“Oh, uh, no,” Willow frowned apologetically. “You wanna find her?”
“I need to. Her suitcase is gone, and some of her stuff. There’s a ‘closed’ sign on the Magic Box, which… chills me to the bone.”
“She called this morning. Said she’s gonna stay away for a couple of days,” the redhead answered.
“Was she looking for me?” He was hopeful. Willow took a deep breath. “Before she left, did she say anything?”
“You mean between sobs?” Was Willow’s honest answer. “There was mostly just wheezing.”
His face fell. “I don’t know how stuff got mixed up! I blew it…”
“No,” Buffy interjected quickly, then amended it. “Well, maybe it wasn’t the best time to break up with her, but –”
“No! It wasn’t about breaking up! I love her, and, God, I miss her so much.”
Willow was confused. “So, you, uh, left her at the altar, but you still wanna…”
“You still wanna date?” Buffy finished.
“I guess. I know I’m a better person with her in my life. But things got so complicated with the wedding, and with my family, and with her demons, and what if it all goes to Hell, and forever. But then I left. And ever since, I’ve had this painful hole inside.”
Buffy glanced down at the floor, a reaction that didn’t go unseen by Spike.
“And I’m the idiot that dug it out. I screwed up real bad.”
“Yeah, you did, you ponce.”
Xander’s head snapped up, and he glared at Spike.
“Nobody asked you for your two-cents, bloodsucker.”
Spike shrugged. “Well, someone ought to tell you what a bloody git you are.”
“Spike…” Buffy sighed.
Xander stepped past her, sizing the vampire up. “Big talk, aren’t ya, Willy-Wanna-Bite.”
The blond snorted. “Oh, please. How soddin’ original. I’m not the one who’s all talk, Whelp. See, if I said I was gonna marry the girl, I bloody well would’ve, instead of runnin’ away, tail between my bleedin’ legs.”
Xander shoved Spike into the doorway. “Oh yeah? This is coming from the leech who stalks my best friend, and doesn’t seem to understand that she will never want a disgusting monster like you.”
“Guys, please…” Buffy reached out to Xander, but he pulled away.
“At least I bloody love her enough, that if she wanted me, I’d be there. You tell me I’m not a man, but I’m more of a man than you were. She loved you, and you hurt her. If you’d really loved her, you wouldn’t have done this. It’s simple.”
Raising his fist, Xander punched Spike in the jaw, sending him sprawling backwards. “You know nothing about this!”
“Nothing, really? I know that somewhere out there is a heartbroken girl, who’s jus’ seen the day of her dreams ripped to pieces by the bloke she trusted the most in the world. I know that you did love her as she loved you, but you got scared, an’ blew the whole thing to shit. I know you’re scared, mate. We all get bloody scared, when you love one person so much that you ache. When you sit and wait for them to realize you’re not what they want, an’ they leave. I think I get it with you. Your parents spend all their time hatin’ each other, an’ you think that’s what’s waitin’ for you. An’ don’t you deny it, ‘cause I spent long enough in that basement of yours to know what your family’s like. You’re scared that you’ll turn out like your da, an’ make demon-girl resent you as much as your mum resents him. So, here’s a bloody clue; if you don’t wanna turn out like your alcoholic father, quit drownin’ your bleedin’ sorrows, an’ go an’ make it right with your girl. ‘Cause you’d have to be a bloody fool to let a girl like that go.”
“But I hurt her,” Xander said hoarsely, tears filling his brown eyes. He looked away.
“Give her time. She needs to know she can trust you, an’ where she stands with you. You shouldn’t rush it, or say the wrong thing so soon. Her wounds are fresh, mate. Give her some healin’ time. Let her take the lead, but be ready to be whatever she wants you to be. It’s her turn to call the shots.”
Xander nodded, and walked into the living-room, sitting back down beside Dawn.
“Thank you,” he whispered quietly.
Spike merely nodded his head. Buffy caught his eye and smiled her appreciation.
With a clearing of his throat, Xander clapped his hands together. “So, what’s a-brewin’ in Sunnydale? Any leads on those pesky nerds?”
“Well, actually, I do have a list of any recently rented properties in Sunnydale.” Willow picked up her laptop, and scanned through it once more. “I was thinking you could check it out, Buffy.” She handed the Slayer a printed version.
Buffy flicked through it and nodded. “I’m on it. I’ll just change into some more geek-hunting appropriate clothes, and I’ll head out.”
“I’ll tag along too, watch your back an’ that,” Spike offered, leaning against the doorjamb.
“These guys are human, Spike. If they fight back, you can’t defend yourself. You’d be better off staying here.”
“Pet, you can’t expect me to let you off after the baddies. You might need back-up.”
She sighed. “Alright. Give me five minutes.”
“Five? If you’re goin’ upstairs to get dressed, you’ll be at least fifteen.”
“Shut up, Spike.”
She headed up the stairs, ignoring Dawn and Spike’s laughter.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
HEY! Sorry if you guys have been waiting, but I've been a-procrastinatin'. So, here's Chapter 2 - unbeta'd, so excuse any unnoticed silly mistakes! Banner's by me, and some lines are taken from "Normal Again" (S6E17) written by Diego Gutierrez. Also: Quote from Shakespeare's HAMLET :D
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
J'adore reviews, so go ahead and gimme some feedback! :]