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A/N As promised more today. April, god bless her, has proofed so effectively that I have plenty of chapters waiting in the wings. But there's a big scary work thing looming for next week and I doubt I'll get too much time to write, so I'll just drip feed you the chapters I've already finished.

If you like Buffy's little internal rant in this chapter you can thank Thursday , her review inspired it :)

I miss Cali and I worry about her, she was always reviewing all my stories, every chapter then she just stopped. If you're out there Cali drop us a review so we know you're okay.

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He watches Carlotta and Dawn doing a fair impression of a house on fire and smiles broadly at the pair. He's been hoping they'd get on; Dawn is one of the few people left that he counts as family. He once counted Angel in that exclusive and unfortunate club, but in the three days he has spent at the slayer training centre his grandsire has been distant to the point of rudeness. Spike had sought him out two nights ago and had invited him to share a drink. He'd hoped they could catch up, that Angel would be able to tell him about Buffy.

Angel had turned him down without explanation and walked away. Ungrateful bastard. Not that Angel even knew how much he owed Spike—the sacrifice he’d made in that dingy LA basement room on the eve of a suicidal face-off with the Wolf, Ram and Hart. But it still hurts, more than he wants to admit. He had thought that during that year in LA they’d managed to hastily reconstruct the rickety bridges between them. They had been, after all, two creatures unique in the world. He had believed he had finally won the long-craved respect of his grandsire.

But it seems here those times meant nothing. Here, instinct holds sway, and Angel's infant humanity recognises Spike for what he is: threat, predator, enemy, and even two centuries of knowledge cannot temper the intensity of his mistrust.

The girls laugh as Dawn manages a new personal best of five keepy-ups. Carlotta looks stunning in her bright yellow Brazilian footy shirt, stone washed jeans and bare feet as she rolls the football under her foot and flicks it into the air with practiced grace. Showboating for Dawn's benefit, she bounces the leather sphere off her forehead and knees before catching it on the back of her neck, David Beckham style.

Dawn laughs and claps and Carlotta grins proudly. He had forgotten that they are roughly the same age; that despite her timeless wisdom and luscious curves Lotta is still so very much a child.

"Showing off again, girl?" he drawls, and Carlotta flicks the Vs in his direction with a grin. He taught her that. He likes the two-fingered salute much better than what the Americans call “the bird.” Bloody daft name if you ask him anyway.

She kicks the ball in his direction and he controls it easily. They have played this game often in the cramped space of their rooms in the modest jungle lodge, a simple competition—who can keep the ball in the air for longest—but made more interesting by the others lewd attempts at distraction.

A few beats and he headers the ball to Dawn, who catches it gracelessly and drops it onto her knee, her face a study of concentration as she begins to bounce the ball.

"Soccer?" Her voice startles him. He hadn't even sensed her approach, so wrapped up had he been in watching his girls at play.

Distracted, Dawn loses control of the ball and frowns accusingly at her sister. "It's football," she corrects irritably. "They were playing this long before American football was invented."

Buffy turns amused, incredulous eyes on him. "What are you doing to my sister?" He bites his lip and gives her his best penitent school boy look, complete with innocent blink, and her mouth quirks as she attempts to hold a stern expression.

"I was about to sneak out for patrol. Giles is distracted with his books. and I think I can get past him and Angel without the usual lectures," she tells them, and his ears prick. After three days stuck in the hotel without a decent spot of violence, patrol sounds fantastic. "You two wanna tag along? Bit of unsanctioned patrolling?"

He turns to see twin looks of disappointment on Dawn’s and Carlotta's faces. Dawn sticks out her lower lips and Lotta blinks her big brown eyes at him and pouts, "Dawn has rented ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ and she was going to straighten my hair."

"Sounds like a thrilling evening, pet. Wish I could stay and play, but I better watch the slayer’s back. Wouldn't want any nasties taking a bite outta her," he says as he backs away from the awful prospect of girly night in. It is one of his most closely-guarded secrets that Dawn has more than once trapped him into letting her paint his nails.

Buffy, vindictive little minx that she is, grins at him with malicious playfulness as she steps away. "Oh no, Spike, I couldn't drag you away. Why don't you stay? Your nails need doing anyway." She waves him away casually. "It's no big, I usually patrol alone anyway. Vamp activity’s way down these days. You stay; have fun."

"No no, slayer. Can't be too careful, not with all these slayers out of action. I better come along. Sorry, girls, you'll have to manage without me tonight." The three of them are wearing matching expressions of amused mockery, but merciful angels that they are, they let it go.

Dawn, may God bless her, takes pity on him. "Oh wow, you have got to see the weapons room in this place!" She runs towards him excitedly and grabs his hand. "You two wait here," she tells the suddenly uneasy-looking slayers. "We'll be back in a minute."

Carlotta gives him a panicked look at the prospect of being alone with Buffy, and the blonde looks no more comfortable with the suggestion, but Dawn is tugging on his hand and he can see no way out. Besides, they'll have to talk sooner or later. "Will you be okay? Do you want me to stay?" he asks clumsily in her native tongue.

She seems to relax a little at his concern and gives him a mock exasperated look. "It's fine," she insists. "Just go." And as an afterthought as he leaves, she shouts after him: "and stop butchering my language!"

……………………….

She can do this. She can have a civilised conversation with Spike's girlfriend for a few minutes. She just has to break the ice, say something to end the awkward silence. "So, Spike's Spanish not too hot, then?"

Carlotta gives her an amused look, perfect eyebrow arched, full sensuous lips quirking upwards. Why the hell couldn't Spike have turned up with a plain girl, or an airhead like Harmony, or even a loony like Dru? Oh no, Spike has to hook up with little Miss Perfect of Perfectville. Not only is the girl younger and prettier than she is, she's also taller, cleverer - lots of knowledge helpful in the long hours of research that have filled their days since Spike and Carlotta's arrival - and has a dry sense humour that has endeared her to everyone. Well, everyone except Buffy. There had been a point yesterday when she would have cheerfully strangled Carlotta with her own perfect hair.

She'd been ecstatic when she'd been passing Spike and Carlotta's room - which is completely reasonable as it's on the way from parts of the building to other parts of the building - and had heard the couple arguing loudly. She'd taken great pleasure in stopping for a moment to listen to Spike's exasperated, "Bloody hell, girl, what is it you want from me?" followed by the very satisfying sound of loud, agitated Spanish and breaking glass. Of course, she'd been less pleased when on her way back from other parts of the building an hour later she'd heard the unmistakable sounds of making up.

"I believe Spike's Spanish is excellent." The answer is accompanied by a small laugh that she can only interpret as condescending. "But in Brazil we speak Portuguese."

"Oh." Could she be any stupider? Hello, I'm Buffy and I'll be your moron for the evening.

The silence is long and heavy, and she is seriously considering doing a cut and run when Carlotta speaks. "I have not yet had an opportunity to tell you what an honour it is to meet you."

"Huh?" Oh, very eloquent, Buffy. Which one of you has English as a first language again?

"I have heard so much about you, many tales of your great victories." The girl's smile is softer now, and she detects a slight nervousness in it. It had not occurred to her at all that perhaps Carlotta, too, felt a sense of inferiority in her presence. As if telepathic, Carlotta continues. "I must admit to being a little, er, how would you say, intimidated in meeting you."

"Huh?" No, this won't do. Come on, Buffy, make a sentence. You can do it. "Intimidated? Of me?" Okay, not great but it's something.

Another small laugh, but not condescending. Obviously she misread that one. "Of course. You are Buffy Summers, perhaps the greatest slayer of all time, and of course the love of Spike's life."

"What? No!" Awkward, very awkward. This is not the way this conversation should be going. "No, not really. I mean, sure, he had a thing for me, or we—we had a thing, but nothing like that. More of a crush, really. Yeah, he just had a crush. All gone now."

Carlotta frowns slightly but her eyes are patient. "Buffy." She holds out a hand and shakes her head slowly. "Before I am Spike's lover, I am his friend and his confidante. He has kept no part of his life secret from me, and when he speaks of you…"

"He speaks of me?" She closes her eyes and shakes her head, annoyed at herself. "I mean, he talks about me?"

"He talks of little else." The answer is instant and unreserved, and she knows it is the truth. Spike has told Carlotta about her, about their relationship, such as it was. She wonders if he has told her everything, and is suddenly ashamed. Does this girl know about the way she treated him? The abuse, the pain she caused him. Has Spike told her what he did to her on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor?

Carlotta seems to sense her distress and lays a hand on her arm. "It was, I think, a difficult time for both of you." Isn't that just the understatement of the year? Her eyes close involuntarily against the painful memories, and Carlotta takes pity on her and changes the subject.

"Of course, he also spoke a great deal of the nibblet. I am sorry, of Dawn." She smiles affectionately, and Buffy must acknowledge that the two are quickly becoming great friends. "There are no two people more important to him in the world; it is why I encouraged him to return."

"You encouraged him…"

"All set then, pet?" Spike's voice cuts off her question and she manages to pull her attention to the vampire just in time to catch the sword he sends spinning towards her.

She shares a look with Carlotta and manages to offer a small smile before following her vampire—no, she must remember he is no longer hers; he is Carlotta's—out into the night.

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A/N Thanks to the lovely people who bothered to review.

CordyKitten - big love to you for leaving reviews, I don't think anything is going to be straightforward on the disease or relationship front. I'm just not going to let anyone off easy I'm afriad, I have angst waiting in the wings.

tayhaangel - if you're looking for things to fall apart keep reading there is angst and darkness by thebucket load in the chapters I'm working on at the moment.

Thanks for the long and lovely review Pin, it's nice to read reviews when people have obviously thought about the story and really taken some time to give their opinion.

Oh don't pout Vamps it'll come in it's own good time, but Spike and Buffy are off patrolling so...Cheers for the review xxxx





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