"So, did he pass the test?" Buffy enquired when she and Giles were in his office after the first official Scoobie meeting since her return.

"Hmm?" Giles replied, feigning ignorance.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Come on, Giles, you honestly think I don't know why you called this meeting? It's not like we have any urgent, evil matters to get to. The Hellmouth hasn't exactly been acting all that Hellmouthy of late. Well, zombie party crashers aside," she amended. "But we already figured that one out. The only reason you called this meeting was so you could check out Spike."

"Th-that is entirely untrue," Giles insisted, whipping off his glasses with indignation. "Just because we don't happen to be facing any obvious dangers at the moment doesn't mean we should become slack in our routine. I think we have missed enough meetings over the last few weeks. And as for my telling you to invite Spike along, well that was just good manners, an attempt in making him feel welcome."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrows hitched slightly. A small smirk on her lips let Giles know she wasn't buying it.

Giles clucked his tongue and sighed. "Oh all right," he conceded. "Yes, I did ask you to bring Spike here under false pretenses. But I hardly think you can fault me for wanting to make sure that the situation with him is...safe."

"What, did you think there was a possibility that he's been faking having a soul?" She cocked her hip  petulantly. "Come on, if that were the case then he's had plenty of opportunities to kill me by now." Opportunities meaning the times she allowed herself to lay vulnerable, sleeping beside him in his bed. Of course, this was not information that Buffy had shared with her Watcher. She loved Giles; she didn't want to see his head explode.

Buffy sighed. "So is everything copacetic? Has Spike convinced you of his soulfulness?"

Giles cleared his throat and placed his glasses on his face. "Yes," he said. "I have no doubt that his soul is, indeed, intact."

"Okay," Buffy drawled, re-crossing her arms over her chest. "If you're so convinced then what's with that big ‘but' you left hanging in the air there?" she asked in an accusatory manner.

"But," Giles began, giving something between a grimace and a smirk at how well his Slayer was able to read his behavior. "Seeing the two of you here together - seeing the way Spike kept looking at you - it is clear that you've bonded, become attached to one another. So I would be remiss if I didn't bring up the risk..."

"Argh!" Buffy growled in frustration. "Not you too. It's bad enough getting this crap from Xander, now you're jumping on the band wagon?" She sighed. "Okay, yes. I admit that Spike and I have become...attached. But we're just friends, nothing more."

"That may be true, that you are just friends...for now," Giles added, "but in time that could change, as the two of you grow closer..."

"Giles," Buffy interrupted, "trust me here. Spike and I are not going to be getting that close any time in the near future. Neither of us is ready for that kind of thing." -

"Yes, but eventually-"

"Eventually, it won't be a problem," Buffy cut him off again. She took a breath before going on. "Willow told me that she-"

"Altered the curse," Giles finished.

Buffy brow furrowed. "Yeah. She told you?"

"Yes," Giles said solemnly, taking off his glasses once again and pinching the bridge of his nose. "She did."

"Okay," Buffy said slowly. "So if you know about there not being a risk to Spike's soul anymore then why are you giving me the third degree?"

"Because I am not entirely convinced that the threat to his soul is gone!" Giles burst out, speaking with a bit more passion than he had intended.

His manner surprised Buffy and she flinched.

Giles sighed. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean to lash out at you," he apologized softly. "I'm rather upset by how rash Willow was in telling you about her putative adjustment to the curse."

"What do you mean ‘putative adjustment'?" Buffy questioned. "Are you saying that she didn't actually change the curse?" Buffy's chest clenched as she asked the question. She had taken Willow at her word, never considering that whatever she had done to the curse hadn't worked, and, maybe worse, she  had let herself be open to the possibility that maybe, someday...

"I'm not suggesting that it's impossible that the alterations she made were effective," Giles began. "But, there is always the chance for error when it comes to magick, especially when one is as green in the Dark Arts as Willow - Spike receiving his soul is proof of that. So it would be in everyone's best interest to be cautious. To refrain from rushing into...anything."

"Oh?" Buffy huffed. "Did you really think that I was going to just jump into to bed with Spike because I thought he might not lose his soul if we had sex? Geez, Giles, what kind of a slut do you think I am?"

"I am not putting your virtue into question, Buffy," Giles stressed wearily. "I'm just making sure that you are aware of the risk that may still be in existence. I'm checking into the matter, looking to see if what Willow did might have actually worked. But it may take some time before I have any definitive answers. After all, gypsy magick is a very esoteric art; the people are not readily forthcoming with outsiders about their ways. Though, I do have a few contacts that I am waiting to hear back from on the subject. But until we are able to ascertain that Spike's soul is indeed secure, we must remain cautious. You'll want to inform him about this, remind him of the dangers..."

"I won't have to remind him of anything," Buffy replied.

"Buffy..." Giles began thinking she was being recalcitrant. "He should be informed about the risk he still faces if-"

"No," Buffy cut him off, shaking her head. "I mean, I don't have to tell him that there's a chance Willow's alteration didn't work because I still haven't told him about it in the first place."

"You haven't?" Giles asked, brow creasing. "Why not?"

Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I wasn't really sure how to bring it up, I guess. I mean it is kind of an awkward topic. What was I supposed to say? 'Oh hey, your soul's safe, so you can go out and get happy as much as you want'?"

Giles cleared his throat, uncomfortable discussing such matters with his charge. "Yes, quite. I see your point."

"And hey! You said that Willow was being rash by blurting out the news the way she did. So my not telling Spike right away was a good, right?"

"Indeed," Giles agreed. "I could only imagine what a jolt it would be to Spike. To believe he had the opportunity to one day be able to be completely happy, just to have it ripped away... Yes I believe it was very prudent of you to keep the matter under wraps."

It was true, what  Giles said. It would be terrible to be given hope like that, only then to have it taken away. Buffy tried to let the knowledge assuage the icky guilt she still felt for keeping the secret from Spike. Her reasons for doing so were hardly charitable. She wanted to make sure that there was a solid boundary to keep her from rushing into something with Spike. The deception was only made worse with Buffy presuming that the feelings she was starting to feel for Spike were reciprocated.

I mean who's to say that he would even want to be with me, anyway? She had thought that the two of them had had a moment right before that darn zombie cat jumped out at them, but how could she know for sure? It was a stressful night. What if she had just been projecting her own desires onto him?

"Buffy?" Giles voice cut through her musings.

"Hmm? Sorry, what?"

"Are you all right?"

"Fine!" she assured, pasting on a bright smile. "Actually," she said after a pause, "you know, I was just wondering about something."

"Yes?" Giles asked attentively.

"Earlier, you said that Spike kept looking at me. How would you describe the looks exactly?"

Giles' shoulders slumped wearily, he sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

~*~*~*~

Spike, Willow, and Xander were all waiting, albeit uncomfortably, out front of the school while Buffy talked with Giles. They stood on the steps of the entrance in awkward silence. Xander kept eyeing Spike warily and Spike, looking for some way to occupy himself, pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his jacket. He shook one out and popped it between his teeth before he took out his lighter and flicked it open.

"Those things'll kill ya, you know?" Xander remarked.

Spike gave him a raised eyebrow as he look over the small flame.

Xander shrank back sheepishly. "Oh, right."

Silence.

"So, Spike," Willow began brightly. "I like your jacket, it's different. Is it new?"

Spike looked down at the denim jacket that he was wearing in place of his usual black duster. "Yeah, the Slayer got it for me."

Willow nodded. "That makes sense; Buffy's always had great taste in clothes."

A light derisive snort sounded from Xander. If only that good taste extended to men.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Willow gave him a kick in the shin. When he looked up at her in confusion, she just glared at him.

"So," Willow turned back to Spike, beaming, "Buffy mentioned something about how you used to be in a band?"

"That's right," Spike confirmed, blowing out a plume of smoke skyward.

"I only bring it up because Oz - that's my boyfriend - he's a musician; he plays bass."

Spike nodded, a tight, polite smile on his lips.

"Also, he's a werewolf."

At that, Spike's brow rose slightly. He wouldn't have pegged that the little moppet would be the sort to go for the big, hairy beasties.

They all turned as the doors to the school swung open and Buffy sauntered out, a collective sigh of relief expelling from them all.

"So, what's the verdict?" Spike asked, tossing down his cigarette butt and stubbing it out. "The old man satisfied that I'm all house broken?"

Buffy smiled, she should have known that he wouldn't have been fooled by Giles' pretense. "Yeah, I think so."

"Good."

The pair looked at each other, smiling for a beat.

Xander's eyes slid between them, not liking what he was sensing. "So," he interrupted, "Will and I are Bronze bound. What do you say, Buff, you down?"

Buffy smiled, ready to accept, but then glanced in Spike's direction. He looked weary and ready to leave. She figured he'd had enough for the night. "Oh, um, I don't know," she stalled.

"You're welcome to join us too, Spike," Willow added, sending Xander a challenging glare. "My boyfriend's band is playing tonight."

Spike looked at Buffy. She was trying to hide her eagerness, but Spike could see it in her eyes; she really wanted to go. However, he knew she wouldn't without him. So if it was going to make the girl happy, he figured that he could endure a few more hours of this social interaction. "A werewolf playin' bass," Spike said, "wouldn't want to miss that." Seeing the smile on Buffy's face, he knew he had made the right choice.

~*~*~*~

"So what do you think?" Buffy asked Spike as they sat on one of the loveseats at the Bronze, watching the band. Willow was by the side of the stage, groupie style, gazing up at Oz playing his bass and bobbing along to the music. Xander was in line for drinks, a long wait, judging by how crowded the place was tonight. Dingoes Ate My Baby was getting pretty popular.

"'s not bad," Spike replied over the music. "They don't seem to know very many chords, though."

"Well, why don't you go up there and show them a thing or two?" she teased. Ever since finding out about his musical background, Buffy had often ribbed him about it.

One corner of Spike's mouth quirked up. "Think I'll pass on that."

Buffy smiled and looked back to the stage, nodding her head in time with the beat.

Spike caught the sight of a young man with brown hair and an artless smile coming their way. He had his eyes on Buffy.

"Hey, Buffy," the boy greeted.

Buffy looked up and smiled, "Oh, Scott, hey. How's it goin'?"

Scott's smile widened. "It's going well, thanks. How are you?"

"Oh, good," Buffy answered amiably.

"That's good," he replied. "I'm glad to hear it."

Spike eyebrow was hitched, his cheeks sucked in as he looked from the Slayer to the doe-eyed boy drooling down at her. For the first time in weeks, he felt the demon stirring in him. Spike felt a growl build in his chest, trying to make its way up his throat. He coughed to cover it.

"Well, I'm doin' quite all right m‘self," Spike interjected. "Not that anyone's carin' to ask."

Buffy felt her cheeks begin to burn. She let out a small, sheepish laugh. "Uh, Spike this is Scott Hope, we go to school together. Scott this is Spike... uh..." Buffy wasn't used to introducing Spike to people, she wasn't sure how to handle the surname issue. What is it with vampires and pop stars not having last names, anyway?'

"Pratt," Spike said, ending Buffy's awkward stammering. "I'm Spike Pratt."

"Pratt? Really?" Buffy asked Spike with a twinge of amusement.

"Yes, really," Spike returned in an and what the hell is wrong with that? tone.

"Pratt," Buffy repeated, suppressing a smirk."I like it."

Spike's eyes narrowed at her.

"So," Scott broke in, reminding the pair of his presence. "How do you two know each other?"

Buffy had never given thought to a cover story for her association with Spike, so she just said the first thing that popped into her head. "Giles!"

Both men looked surprised by the outburst; she had been a bit too emphatic with her declaration. Buffy shrugged. He was the only other British person she knew, after all; it kind of made sense.

She ducked down a bit sheepishly. Clearing her throat, she elaborated, "Um, Giles introduced us. Spike's his...nephew! Yeah, that's right, he's Giles' nephew who's visiting from England." Buffy beamed as she finished her story, proud of her quick thinking.

Spike looked at her sideways, being roped in with the likes of stuck up Watchers wasn't exactly ideal to him. Nevertheless, he backed Buffy up.

"That's right. 'm here visiting me dear ol' Uncle Rupes."

"Oh," Scott nodded, "so the two of you aren't like, dating, then?"

"Oh no, no, not at all. We're just...friends." Her answer was a bit too emphatic. But, after all, she was used to arguing the nature of their relationship to everyone. It was automatic.

Right. Just friends, Spike thought, his jaw tensing. By the insistent way Buffy made the declaration it was clear that that's all she'd ever considered being with him.

Oh stop your poutin' you bloody Nancy, said the other side of his brain. It's not like you've made any moves to take it beyond that. So put up or shut up. It could be worse; you could have nothin' with her at all.

But would that really be worse? Spike had to wonder for a moment. If he wasn't apart of Buffy's life, he wouldn't have to sit here and watch while she got hit on by the likes of Scott Hopeless.

"So," the wanker ventured, "it wouldn't be wrong of me, then, to ask you to dance?"

"Oh, I'd loved to mate," Spike joked, "but I'm afraid I've got two left feet."

Scott chuckled good-naturedly, but clearly uncomfortable, not to mention, a bit intimidated.

"So, Buffy," Scott clarified, "what about you? Would you care to dance?"

Buffy opened her mouth to politely refuse, but Spike beat her to the punch. "Go ahead" he told her..

Buffy whipped her head around to look at him, her face one of utter shock. "Huh?"

Spike shrugged, "Go on, dance with the lad."

Buffy's mouth hung open. She couldn't believe Spike was doing this. He didn't care about Buffy dancing with another guy, he, in fact, wanted her to. It stung. It also royally pissed her off.

"Fine," she said, getting to her feet. She turned to Scott and smiled at him. "I'd love to dance with you."

Scott grinned. "Great!" He offered her his elbow. "Shall we?"

Buffy looped her hand through his arm and let him lead her off to the dance floor.

"Have fun!" Spike called after them, mentally kicking himself.

What the bleedin' hell were you thinkin'? You encouraged her to go off with another bloke! You really are a soddin' moron!

Buffy's got her own mind, he argued with himself. She's plenty capable of makin' it up all on her own without my help. She didn't have to go off with him if she didn't want to.

Spike sank down further into the love seat flexing his jaw muscle.

Are you completely daft? She's only out there with that idiot to make you jealous.

But Spike wasn't so sure that that was Buffy's game, though if it was, it was definitely working. Spike watched the two of them out there. They stood so close to each other, so close that Scott's hands were on Buffy's waist.

He has no right to put his hands on her, his outraged mind cried.

Spike's blood was beginning to boil. He couldn't stand this. He could feel the familiar burning under his skin; he was on the verge of vamping out. Spike rubbed his hands over his face, trying to suppress the urge. He took in big unnecessary breaths, trying to calm down. It wasn't working. He couldn't calm down, what with seeing as how Scott's hands were slipping lower, going to Buffy's hips, hovering just above her...

Spike surged to his feet, not even conscious of the gesture, instinct taking over. He just knew that he had to do something.

He pushed through the crowd of writhing hormone receptacles, heedless of the Heys and watch were you're goings. He couldn't hear anything but his blood rushing in his ears. Spike stopped when he came up behind Scott, by then he was seething with anger. He flexed his hands into fists. The picture of picking the boy up by the scruff of his neck and chucking him across the room flitted through his mind. Slowly, Spike's hand crept up.

Buffy's eyes widened when she saw Spike standing over Scott's shoulder, his eyes blazing blue flames of rage.

Uh oh. Oh no.

Buffy watched in horror as Spike's hand rose. She was just about to cry out but was stunned silent when, instead of smacking Scott across the head, Spike simply used his index finger to tap the teenager on the shoulder.

Scott whirled around. "May I cut in?" Spike asked, his eyes locked on Buffy.

"I thought you didn't want to dance," Buffy replied dubiously.

"Yeah well, I changed my mind," Spike retorted. "It's my prerogative."

Scott looked between the pair uneasily. "Um, Buffy, is it okay with you?"

Buffy looked at Spike a moment, deliberating. "Yeah," she concluded, "it's fine."

"Oh," Scott said disappointedly. "Um, okay then." He stepped out of the way and Spike immediately slid in to take the boy's place. Scott remained standing at the side for a moment, waiting for some recognition, maybe a goodbye. But the way Spike and Buffy's eyes were fixed on each other it was obvious that, to them, he was already gone. "Uh, I guess I'll see you around, Buffy."

"Uh-huh," the Slayer replied absently. After a beat, Scott realized that that was as good as he was going to get from her and, with a defeated sigh, turned and slogged away.

Spike cleared his throat after a moment, before slowly reaching out his hands and putting them on the side of Buffy's hips. It was a good thing he didn't need to breath because being so close to Buffy, touching her, he found that he couldn't. She took a step toward him, shortening the already small gap between their bodies. They were a hair's breadth from being pressed together.

The two just stood there for a moment, unsure, avoiding each other's eyes. The only other times that they had been this close were during those nights that they never talked about, when Spike had his nightmares. It had been awhile since he had needed her to hold him, though, and now the contact felt somehow foreign but familiar all the same.

Taking the initiative, Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's shoulders. He responded by placing his hands on her waist.

Then they let the rhythm of the music guide them and began to sway.

Spike absently recalled the first time he had seen the Slayer. She had been dancing then as well. He remembered being entranced by her movements, even though he was supposed to be observing his quarry, he had had  to admit to how beautiful she was. Even then, he had felt a certain desire for her. But if he had thought that she was enticing from a distance, it didn't even compare to the effect she was having on him now that he was so close to her.

Her hips were brushing against his, stroking the fire within him. Buffy stepped away from him and spun in a circle as the tempo of the music sped up. She lifted her arms above her head, her perfect, pert breasts bounced slightly under the flimsy silk fabric of her top. The way her face looked, her eyes closed as she rocked her head side to side and bit her bottom lip. He wanted to suck that lip into his own mouth and nibble on it. She turned around toward the stage, her back now to Spike. His eyes slid down to her ass. It was one of her best features - not that they weren't all great -- but she had a very nice bum. It was firm -- he knew from having 'accidently' gotten a feel of it during one of their many battles.

Bet you could bounce a quarter off it, no problem. It was nice and round, like a peach. Bet it tastes as sweet as one, too. He could imagine sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Buffy backed up until she was pressed against him. Spike put his hands on the side of her hips and moved his with hers. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her. He could feel all the blood in his body surging south. Spike had always been a very sexual being and it had been months since he had engaged in any kind of extracurricular activity. In over a hundred years, he had never abstained for more than a day or two. He was pent up with sexual energy and he wanted Buffy. But the truth was that he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her and that was all the time, not just when she was rubbing that fantastic backside of hers dangerously close to Spike Jr. -- who had always, up until recently, been the one calling the shots. But Spike knew one thing for certain: he was in trouble.

Spike ripped his hands away from Buffy and took a big step back, raking a hand through his hair.

Buffy whipped around, her brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," Spike said, a bit too harshly. He sighed and softened his tone. "I'm just desperate for a fag is all. I'm gonna step out for tick." He turned and started to retreat.

Buffy jogged after him. "I'll come with you."

Spike wheeled on her, stopping her in her tracks. "You don't ‘ave to hover over me every second, Slayer. I'm perfectly capable of goin' out for a smoke by myself."

Buffy blinked, taken aback. "I know. I just-"

"It's fine," Spike interrupted. "I'll be back in mo'. You stay here and have fun, yeah?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and stalked out of the club.

TBC...