After the initial shock of two Slayers had worn off, the Scooby gang assembled back inside the Bronze to commence with the aweing of it. Everyone sat around Faith as she regaled them with naked adventures and alligator wrestling. Everyone, that is, save Spike. He was the only one of the group who hadn't seemingly forgotten the existence of the original Slayer.

Spike eyed Buffy, her head was bowed down towards the hands clasped in her lap as she pretended that all the fawning over the newer model didn't bother her. But anyone with half a brain could see that it did. Anger welled up in Spike as he sent an unnoticed sneer at the group of traitors; he doubted that they shared half a brain among them. The whelp didn't surprise him - he couldn't expect a boy like that to notice anything once the word "naked" was uttered in reference to an attractive woman .

His girl, Cordelia, seemed a shallow short; the type that figured the sun shone for them alone. He didn't think it odd that she would abandon Buffy. But that she would let anyone other than herself take center stage was striking. He didn't really know anything about the werewolf, so he couldn't make any definitive conclusions about his character. He was a tad surprised by Willow though. She had seemed a sympathetic sort. Spike would've have thought that at least she, out of all of them, would realize that the abject adoration they were giving another Slayer would hurt Buffy's feelings. But she was just as clueless as the rest.

Spike felt like knocking all their heads together. Though, grudgingly, Spike had to admit that he could understand the reason for their fascination. Anyone new to Sunnydale was, of course, a big deal to kids who'd never really been outside of their little corner of the world. Granted that Sunnydale, being on a Hellmouth, offered a lot more excitement than your average small town USA. Still, the appeal of someone so much more worldly was too strong to resist. Spike however, having been around the block a couple hundred times himself, was not interested in anything the understudy had to say.

That is, until she asked a certain intriguing question of Buffy. "Isn't it crazy how slayin' just always makes you hungry and horny?"

Buffy felt her cheeks flaming as everyone looked to her expectantly. Just a few minutes ago, she had been wishing her friends would remember her existence; this, however, was not what she had wanted . She shrank back sheepishly in her seat, looking in turn to the querying eyes of her friends. When her gaze fell on Spike and she saw the spark of interest in his eyes, the leering way he rose an eyebrow at her, her blush went all the way to her core . She quickly looked away from him and, stammering, responded to the question, "Well. . . I do sometimes crave a non-fat yogurt afterwards."

Spike's lip twitched as Buffy glanced his way again. She felt a moment of panic, catching the knowing glint in his eye. She worried that perhaps she had given off some sort of vibe during their past fights that caused that look in his eye. Now she was glad that her friends weren't paying attention to her. She just wished Spike would concentrate on Faith some more as well.

Buffy turned to look at Cordelia, pretending to listen as the other girl explained the obvious about why there was another Slayer.

"B," Faith asked, "is it really true that you used a rocket launcher one time?"

Buffy smiled and leaned forward, happy to be included in the conversation in a non-embarrassing way. "Yeah. Actually it's a funny story there's-"

Xander interrupted her, wanting to know more about the aforementioned alligator story. Buffy, once again being overshadowed, leaned back into her seat, a hurt look crossing her face.

Spike glared daggers at the back of Xander's head as the oblivious boy asked Faith if this story also involved nudity. Pathetic ponce. Spike wanted shake the boy until his teeth rattled loose in his useless skull. Surprisingly, the soul in him didn't seem to object too much to the idea.

"I tell ya," Faith concluded wistfully, "I never had more trouble than with that damn vamp. So what about you," she nodded at Buffy, "what was your toughest kill?"

A dark look crossed Buffy's face, the meaning of which, like everything else, was lost on everyone in the group except Spike. He had no doubt whatsoever which kill was playing through Buffy's mind right now.

Angel.

Buffy shook herself. "Well, they're all difficult, I guess," she evaded. Spike had the impulse to reach over and take her hand. Suddenly Buffy's eyes lightened. "Oh, you guys remember the Three?" She was met with blank looks. Spike's brow knitted with interest. The Three, eh? He'd never met them personally but their reputation for being a tough bunch was renowned in the underworld.

"That's right," Buffy went on, a bit deflated, "you guys never met the Three. Well, there-"

Buffy's story was once again interrupted, causing Spike's ire to rise - he'd actually really wanted to hear about that one. This time, it wasn't Xander to cut her off, but the werewolf whom, until this moment, Spike didn't think he'd actually heard speak.

"So you both kill vampire's - and who could blame you-" his eyes flicked to Spike, "no offence." Spike curled his lip and gave a dismissive nod. "Anyway," Oz went on, directing his attention towards Faith, "what is your position on werewolves?"

"Oz is a werewolf," Willow interjected.

"It's a long story," Buffy offered.

"I got bit," Oz explained.

Buffy deflated. "Apparently not that long,"

"Hey, as long as you don't go scratching at me and humping my leg, we're five by five, you know?" Faith replied.

"Fair enough," Oz murmured thoughtfully.

Spike rolled his eyes as he caught a look on Xander's face that suggested he was imagining humping some part of the girl's body at that moment. He'd had about all of this as he could take and, he suspected, so had Buffy.

"Well," Spike pronounced, clapping his hands together to make sure he got everyone's attention, "I sure ‘ave enjoyed listenin' to all the tall-tales, but I think I'm gonna ‘ave to call it a night. My head's startin' to smart."

Faith pursed her lips and sucked in some air through her teeth. "Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that." Despite her contrite words, a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. It was a bit of a flirtatious smile, Buffy noticed, tensing.

Spike's lips twitched. "No worries, love,"

Love? Buffy repeated silently. She didn't like him using the endearment he used with her on Faith. It was bad enough that all of her friends were tripping over themselves trying to get in with the other Slayer, now she was taking Spike away from Buffy too.

Buffy looked from Spike to Faith and wondered if it was just her imagination, or was the chemistry dancing between them real?

"Aww, you're leaving?" Xander's mocking voice broke into her musings. "That's too bad. Well, bye," he dismissed the vampire abruptly before turning back to the Slayer of the hour. "So, Faith-"

"Uh, Slayer," Spike interrupted whatever inane - and no doubt perverted - question the boy was about to ask.

"Yeah?" Buffy and Faith both replied. Buffy looked at Faith sharply; Spike may have called her love, but Slayer was definitely a moniker that was Buffy's alone.

Right?

A taut silence passed between them until Spike amended himself, "Uh, Buffy."

Faith put up her hands with and ‘oops' expression.

Buffy beamed triumphantly and turned to the vampire. "Yes?"

"Um," Spike scratched his head with feigned sheepishness, "I hate to ask, and you don't have to if you wanna stick around and. . ." he waved a hand toward Faith, "bond, but. . ."

Buffy cringed at the thought of bonding with Faith before her spirits lifted and she realized what Spike was trying to say. "You want me to walk you?"

Spike gave a small, shy smile. "If you don't mind."

"Sure," Buffy replied with a touch too much enthusiasm, hopping to her feet. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"Good." Spike slapped his thighs and heaved himself up. "Well, night all," he muttered to the bunch. "Faith, it was. . . interesting meetin' you." He rubbed his jaw. "You definitely made quite an impression."

Faith chuckled throatily. "Yeah well, you were pretty impressive yourself there."

Buffy's blood simmered as visions of eye scratching danced in her head and she balled her fists.

The scent of her anger wafted up to Spike and he turned to appraise Buffy. The green in her eyes was popping in this light and he saw the most amazing thing in them.

Is she... jealous? Spike was sure she was. But was she jealous that Faith was flirting with him, or was it just because she was taking over the Slayer's territory? It was likely a mixture of both, Spike reckoned, with the bulk of it caused by the latter, but he could live with that.

"Well, then," he ventured, invigorated, "shall we?"

Buffy smiled at him. "‘kay." She waved at her friends. "See you guys tomorrow?"

Willow smiled at her. "Sure. Bye guys."

Buffy got no better than a mumbled response from the others with the exception Faith.

"Yeah. I definitely wanna hook up later, B." She flashed those pearly whites of her. "We can talk shop, swap stories."

Buffy plastered on a tight smile and nodded. "Sound great." And about as fun as a root canal.

Faith was apparently oblivious to Buffy's lack of enthusiasm. "Cool, later. And, uh, I'll be seein' you later too, Soulman," she added, tilting her head with a coy half-smirk at Spike.

"Yeah, right," Spike muttered in a non-committal tone. He then ushered Buffy towards the exit before she jumped across the couch and ripped Faith's hair out.

~*~*~*~

Spike's jaw was clenched tight. He was fighting not to wince as Buffy scrubbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball a bit too roughly over the lesions on his face. Instead of going straight to the mansion, Buffy had insisted they stop at her house - since it was closer to the Bronze - to get Spike cleaned up. She'd argued that if they didn't, they'd have a line of vamps following the trail of blood Spike was leaving in his wake.

Spike gave in, of course. He didn't suppose he would ever be able to refuse her anything.

He observed her expression of consternation: the tight, thin line of her mouth and her narrowed eyes, and figured she was thinking about the new girl.

"You all right, pet?" he asked .

"I'm fine," Buffy replied tightly with a touch of defensiveness in her tone. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Spike's raised his eyebrows in challenge - the action proved a painful one, as it reopened an already healing cut on his left brow. He wondered if he'd end up with an accompanying scar to the one that already existed there. "Come on, Slayer," he needled, "don't you know by now that you can't fool me? I know that the arrival of this new chit has gotta be botherin' you."

Buffy huffed. "Why should it bother me? I should be happy she's here, embracing her even. If anything, she can only help me out with all the vamps and demons and lighten my load. I should be grateful she came here," Buffy said as much to herself as to Spike. She knew the things that she was saying should be true. She should be glad about having another Slayer around to help. But the truth was that Spike was right. Faith did bother her.

Buffy thought back, trying to remember if she had felt this hostile towards Kendra when she first arrived. The answer was yes. She hadn't been too welcoming of her arrival either - but, then again, that was mostly to do with the fact that Kendra had locked her honey in a cage with a nice view of the sun.

Maybe what she was feeling now was like that. Maybe she was so rankled by Faith because she had beaten up Spike. But, Buffy knew even as she thought it, that that wasn't the case here. She knew why Faith irked her so; it was because she was jealous.

She was jealous of how her friends had been drooling all over themselves, listening to Faith talk about her exploits. They hadn't seemed nearly as interested in Kendra when she was here. Of course, Kendra hadn't been one to bask in attention the way Faith seemed to enjoy doing.

Buffy sighed. She didn't like being jealous. It made her feel petty.

"It's all right, pet," Spike said, seeming to read her mind. "I get what it's like. To be the top dog and then suddenly become...then ‘ave someone saunter in and knock you off your throne." Of course, that isn't a particularly difficult thing for one to do, when the one sittin' there is confined to a wheelchair, he added bitterly to himself.

"I think you were mixing your metaphors there," Buffy remarked.

Spike's lip twitched wryly. "I think you can still follow my point."

"Yeah," Buffy admitted quietly. "I think I do. You're talking about you and Angelus."

"And you and Faith. Different ends of the spectrum, but same basic elements. She's your counterpart but also competition. You're both alphas; it's hard for you to coexist peacefully," he stated sagely. "An' I know it doesn't help that your mates were throwin' themselves at her feet." Just like Dru did. She forgot all about her dark prince once daddy came home. Spike tried to shake himself; he hadn't realized how much resentment he still held for that.

He cleared his throat along with his thoughts and continued with his point, "But you can't take their reactions too personally. This girl to them is like a shiny new toy; they wanna play with her now, but they'll tire of her soon enough."

Buffy let his words sink in for a moment before responding, "And what about you?"

Spike's brow crinkled in question.

"Well," Buffy expanded, "I mean, I don't know how things were going between you two before she kicked your ass, but afterwards you seemed pretty chummy. You guys were smoking together and all."

Spike couldn't help the swell of pleasure he felt at Buffy's apparent jealousy but he tried to suppress it from showing outwardly. "First of all, Slayer," he began, holding up a finger to tick off his point, "I'll ‘ave you know, that bint far from kicked my ass. I had the upper hand. Had I been so inclined I coulda snuffed her out, no problem." Buffy couldn't fight the smirk tugging at her lips as she listened to Spike's posturing. "The only person who has ever kicked my ass is you, pet. And second, you of all people should know that I am capable of bein' somewhat civil when the purpose serves me. Or have you forgotten our little truce?"

"Of course I haven't," Buffy replied. "But, even though you and I worked together to take on Angel, you never once let anything but your seething hatred for me show."

"Well yeah," Spike replied , "we were mortal enemies and I was without a soul at the time. Things were different. I don't ‘ave any sort of interest in this new girl."

"Are you sure?" Buffy asked, looking down at her hands. "Because it looked like-"

"I don't care what it looked like," Spike interrupted. "I care what I'm tellin' you and I'm tellin' you that I know good an' well what that girl's selling and I'm not interested in buyin'. Pet," he entreated, "look at me will you?"

Buffy kept her eyes on the Band-Aid she had in her hands.

"Buffy?"

Taking in a breath, Buffy slowly looked up and did what she had tried to avoid doing whenever possible; she looked straight into Spike's eyes. Her breath froze as she gazed into his icy blue depths. She couldn't figure out why his eyes always had the strangest and strongest effect on her. But she knew that to venture into them was dangerous. That's why, when looking at his face, she tried to keep her focus on three safe spots: forehead, nose or chin. His lips, she found, were quite treacherous territory as well.

Spike looked into the kaleidoscope that were Buffy's eyes, and saw in them a vulnerability he never before witnessed from the Slayer, not even on that Halloween when she had forgotten herself and her strength. He remembered her that night, her helplessness. The way she had cowered from him as he towered over her. He could remember the intoxicating scent of her fear.

Then he recalled how he had nearly lost control during the fight earlier.

If Buffy knew how close the monster in him had come to being unleashed, would she still be opening herself to him like this now?

Spike blinked and cleared his throat, looking down.

Buffy was surprised; Spike had never before been the first to look away. "What is it?" she asked, worried.

Spike licked his lips. "Listen, pet, there's somethin' I should tell you, somethin' happened with me, before ...with the other Slayer."

Buffy straightened, taking a step back from him. Spike flicked a glance at her eyes; her walls were back up.

His jaw tensed and he had to work it a bit before he could speak, "I had . . . a sort of . . . episode, I guess. I almost lost control of myself."

Buffy's brow pinched in surprise . When Spike had said something had happened with the other Slayer, visions of the pair making out had absurdly found their way into her mind. "Lost control?" she echoed. "How?"

Spike shook his head. "I, that is, I almost-I wanted to-" He paused, taking in a needless breath and sighed. "I almost bit her," he confessed, barely audible. But Buffy was close enough to hear.

Her eyes widened, her heart jumping with anxiety. "You . . . almost bit her?" She was hoping she had heard him wrong.

Spike, his eyes clenched shut, nodded.

Buffy licked her lips. "Okay," she said slowly, "tell me what happened exactly."

Spike sighed. "I didn't want to fight her," he began. "I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn't listen - not that I blame her. She just kept comin' at me and I was gettin' really ticked off. My blood was boilin'. I tried to fight it, but the bloodlust...it just took over." He shook his head as the memory of her heartbeat pulsing against his lips flooded him. "I was this close," to demonstrate, he held up his thumb and index finger spread less than an inch apart , "I could have-"

"But you didn't," Buffy interrupted. "And that's the point. You stopped yourself, right? I mean you said before that you had the upper hand and you could have killed Faith, but you didn't."

Spike nodded his head weakly. "Yeah. I stopped myself," he muttered. "But, the chit brought up a good point. What if I lose control again but can't stop myself? Buffy, what would happen if I hurt someone?"

"You won't." Buffy's tone was adamant.

Spike huffed. "We can't know-"

"I know," she argued. "I know you, Spike. You won't hurt anyone."

Spike looked into Buffy's eyes and was struck by the utter sincerity in them. She really believed in him.

Buffy put her hand over Spike's and squeezed it, stepping closer to him, she offered a reassuring smile.

A throat cleared from the doorway. "Am I interrupting something here?"

Buffy, wide eyed, whipped around. "Mom!" she practically squeaked.

Joyce put her hand to her mouth to cover a small smirk. She couldn't help it from forming upon seeing the scared, rabbit in the headlights look on her demon-fighting daughter's face. It was reassuring to know that, no matter how much responsibility was on Buffy's shoulders, she was still a normal teenage girl in some respect.. But Joyce's amusement quickly faltered when she got a good look at Spike's face.

"Oh my god!" she gasped. "What happened?" She rushed over to the injured vampire to better inspect him.

"New Slayer," Spike immediately informed.

"A new..." Joyce looked at Buffy, her surprise visible. "I thought there was only one."

"There is. Usually," Buffy said. "Remember Kendra?" Her mother nodded. "Well, she died so...Faith was called. I guess since I, you know, died that time." Buffy winced, seeing the tightening of her mom's mouth. Her daughter's death was still a sore subject for Joyce and not something she enjoyed thinking about. Buffy cleared her throat. "Well, I guess because that happened, there will always be two Slayer's now instead of one."

"Well good," Joyce declared after a moment. "Now someone else can take over for you and you can focus more on having a normal life."

"It's not that simple Mom," argued Buffy.

"Why not?"

"Well," Buffy began, "just because there happens to be another Slayer doesn't mean that I stop being the Slayer. I still have a responsibility."

"Yes," Joyce acknowledged, "but since there was only supposed to be one Slayer to begin with, then I don't understand why - since there's another one now - you both have to sacrifice everything for slaying."

Buffy sighed in exasperation.

Spike found himself uncomfortable witnessing this family argument. "Uh," he broke in, "you know it's gettin' pretty early. I should make my way back to the mansion before it gets too close to sunrise." He pushed away from the counter and started for the door.

"Spike wait," Buffy called. "I thought you wanted me to walk you."

Spike waved her off. "I think I'll be fine. What're the odds I'll meet a third Slayer out there, eh? You should stay here with your mum. I'll see you later."

"But-"

"Why don't you just spend the day here?"

Spike and Buffy both turned to Joyce, goggling at the woman.

"What?" Joyce asked defensively. "We have a trundle bed down in the basement we can make up. It's no trouble."

"Oh," said Spike. "I wouldn't want to put you out, Joyce."

Mrs. Summers clucked her tongue. "Nonsense. I said it isn't any trouble."

"Uh..." Spike floundered for an excuse.

"Mom," Buffy intervened, "it isn't exactly practical for him to stay here. He has certain needs..."

"Blood, you mean?" Her mother's matter-of-fact tone surprised Buffy.

"For starters," she said.

"Well, that isn't a problem. We have some." Joyce crossed to the fridge and opened the door. Inside, there were two Styrofoam containers that clearly came from the butcher's.

"Um...since when did you add blood to your grocery list?" Buffy inquired.

"Since we started entertaining vampires for dinner," her mother replied in that same nonchalant tone as before. "I thought it would be good to have some on hand in case Spike ever wanted to come by."

"Well," Spike began, he was quite surprised by this development himself - and, after over a century, it took a lot to surprise the vampire. "That's a mighty fine gesture, Joyce."

"Think nothing of it, Spike," Joyce replied, giving him that kind, nurturing smile of hers. "So," she ventured, "is it settled then? Should I get you some blankets for the basement?"

"Uh..." Spike looked to Buffy. The Slayer shrugged, her expression reading along the lines of why not?.

"Sure," Spike drawled, "that would be nice."

TBC..