Title: Replaced



Rating: R



Summary: Spike goes to Warren to order the Buffybot, but he’s not going to use it for his own personal use this time.



Disclaimer: Joss & Co. own everything. I’m just borrowing them for a bit to keep my restless mind busy on a snowy afternoon.







Buffy tossed her jacket tot the floor and slumped onto the bed. She was sure her mother would give her the ‘put your clothes in the hamper’ lecture in the morning, but she was too tired and bummed out to care at the moment. She had defeated the bad guy, but the whole discussion with April was still bothering her.



Warren had programmed her to be so devoted. She had been just what he wanted—for a time anyway. What was it with men? They always changed their minds and ran away. She was an expert on the subject, first Angel, then Parker, and now Riley. Heck, she could probably teach a course at Sunnydale University—“How to Get Dumped Without Even Trying”. The only guy who stuck by her was Spike. Spike, what a joke! The only man who wanted to stay with her was a bleached blond vampire with a Billy Idol wannabe syndrome and a fondness for bondage.



Buffy cringed as she kicked off her shoes recalling the feel of the iron manacles around her wrists when she has woken up in that tunnel below his crypt. Most guys brought a girl flowers and had candle light dinners, and she got a wall of stolen pictures and chains. Looking at it that way, maybe Warren did have a good idea.



“Ugh,” she groaned giving the pillow a frustrated punch before flopping out on the bed fully clothed. She doubted she was going to get any sleep in the near future, but she was sick of thinking of her lousy love life, especially when every thought had a way of ending up on the topic of Spike.





****







“Okay, I think it’s official,” Xander sighed plopping his book on the large stack of texts in the center of the table. “These books don’t have a single word about Glory. Now, if you’re looking for a brain-eating mucus-covered demon, I can tell you anything you want to know…”



“Then we keep looking,” Buffy snapped from behind the counter of the magic shop. She had to admit she was getting bored with Giles’ endless supply of forgotten lore, but it was better than sitting at home where her thoughts kept wandering back to Spike.



“I believe we can be sure there is a passage on the topic somewhere,” Giles added as the boy grudgingly picked another book off the pile. “It will probably be cryptic since I don’t recall any mention of extremely fashion conscious demons in any of my studies, but perhaps a past embodiment…”



“So we’re looking for a past life of something that we haven’t got a clue about in its present life,” Anya complained, ignoring the disapproving look Willow shot across the table. “It just seems like we ought to know what we’re looking for before we try to find it.”



“And I suppose we should just give Glory a call and ask her to tell us what she is?” Will snapped.



“I’m just saying we’re working ourselves to exhaustion and getting nowhere!” the ex-demon shot back.



“Maybe we should call it a night,” Buffy cut in rounding the counter. “I know you guys are tired. Go home and get some rest. We can start fresh in the morning.”



“Are you sure?” Tara asked giving the Slayer a concerned look as Anya pushed her book aside with a sigh of relief. She could see the hints of dark circles under Buffy’s eyes; even with the makeup she had applied to cover them. The Scoobies were tired, but Buffy was exhausted. She had a feeling it wasn’t just Glory that was bothering her friend.



“Yeah,” she replied giving the group her best fake smile, “you guys should get some rest before you burn out and miss something important.”



That was all it took, even Willow, usually the first in line for a long night of hitting the books, jumped up from the table and quickly started packing up her bag. Although, Buffy noticed the red head did pack up a few demonology texts along with her schoolbooks.



She waited for the sound of the bell over the shop’s door to die away before letting her shoulders slump. She settled onto one of the stools next to the counter and rested her elbows on the counter next to the register waiting for the lecture she knew Giles had been composing while the gang had made their exit.



“Buffy, do you think this is wise?” the Watcher asked his expression more concerned than disapproving. He had been putting in quite a few late nights of his own, and they were taking their toll. Considering the grave aspect of the situation, he had to push himself. “We really should be taking advantage of every possible moment.”



“When the bickering starts, there’s no research getting done,” she sighed. “We don’t want to miss something because we’re busy yelling at each other. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep too? I’ll lock up.”



“I could do that,” he replied, “but you need your rest too.”



“I’m going to get a little training in,” she explained. “I don’t think I could get much sleep tonight.”



“You’re not letting the incident with Spike bother you, are you?” he asked as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders.



“He’s the last thing on my mind,” Buffy lied as she jumped up from the stool and followed him to the door. “Just need to get a little workout in. Besides, it’ll help me sleep when I get home.”



“Well, if you’ll go home and get some rest after you’re done,” Giles paused at the door.



“Don’t worry,” Buffy assured him giving him a little nudge out the door. “I’ll get my beauty sleep. Now, go home and do something non-watchery.”





****





Buffy pulled the athletic tape from her stiff fingers and tossed it into the small metal trash can with such force that the can fell over on its side. The workout had only helped to wear her out, but her brain was still on overdrive. Thanks to Spike, she was going to have yet another sleepless night. She was tempted to march over to his crypt and take out her frustrations on his face, but knowing his sick mind, he would only see it as encouragement.



“Damned that vampire!” she growled giving the punching bag one last jab.



“Nice to see you’re still thinking of me, pet.”



“What the hell are you doing here?” She whipped around to glare coldly at the intruder.



Spike leaned casually against the doorframe his lips curved into a mocking smirk that just fed her urge to punch him all the more. She had been so occupied with taking out her anger with him on the punching bag; she hadn’t heard him enter the room.



“Public place, luv,” he reminded her with a shrug. “You should remember to lock the door. Any low life could come in here and rob the Watcher blind.”



“And you would be that low life,” Buffy snapped crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to keep from hitting him. He was baiting her, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. “The shop is public not the training room.”



“Guess your Wiccas were too busy with the house,” he replied. “Still have and invite here. Maybe you just didn’t have the heart to shut me out completely.”



“An oversight,” she assured him. “I’ll be sure to remind Willow to take care of it tomorrow.”



Spike continued to lean against the doorjamb. He never could take the hint when it came to the topic of him leaving. Her anger was nearly boiling over, but she refused to let him bait her into a confrontation. Let him stand there and stare at her, or rather over her shoulder.



“What are you looking at?” Buffy’s eyes grew wide when she looked over her shoulder. She was hallucinating. Lack of sleep had caused her to imagine that she was standing there smiling happily back at herself.



“What…” Her mind went blank as the shock ran through her body. Desperately, she tried to hang on to consciousness, but the Buffy hallucination continued to hold the cattle prod to her stomach until she sunk to her knees.



“Sorry, luv.” Spike’s voice sounded far away even though in her semi-conscious state she could feel the vampire’s arms snake around her body as he lifted her from the floor. “We need time to take, and this time you’re going to listen to me.”





TBC…

Joyce looked up from her book as Buffy entered the room. She knew she should have been in bed resting, and her daughter would give her the lecture about following doctor’s orders, but sick or not she was still a mother. Buffy had said she was going out to the Magick Shop to get some training in, but still she worried. Her daughter was the Slayer, and trouble had a tendency pf popping up when least expected. Buffy looked happy, almost animated, a rather unusual occurrence for her daughter who seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders lately.



“Have a good evening?” Joyce asked laying her book on the cushion next to her.



“Very good,” Buffy paused her head tilting to the side for a moment, “Mom.”



“Weren’t you wearing a jacket when you left?” she asked.



She had the impression that something must be wrong. Buffy seemed too happy, and that usually meant she was trying to hide something. She also knew Buffy would keep up the act all night rather than worry her ill mother.



“Jacket?” She looked down at her bare arms as if just realizing her jacket was missing. “I must have left it at the shop. I will get it tomorrow.”



“Is everything okay, Buffy?”



“I am fine, thank you,” she replied with a broad smile. “It is getting late. I had better get to bed.”



“Okay, honey. I’ll see you in the morning,” Joyce sighed as the girl left the room. Something was definitely on Buffy’s mind. She hadn’t even asked her mother how she was feeling.





****







Buffy sighed turning her face into her pillow. She kept her eyes closed, really not ready to get out of bed. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all, and the nightmare she had had about Spike didn’t help matters. Wasn’t it enough that he plagued her thoughts during the day?



She shifted a bit uncomfortably. She didn’t normally sleep on her back, and she didn’t remember her bed being this uncomfortable. Then there was the matter of the pillow. It didn’t normally have a lingering scent of cigarette smoke. Unless that vampire had been in her room again. There was the de-invite spell, but maybe he had convinced Dawn to… She was going to kill that vampire!



“What the—“



“Thought you’d never wake up, Slayer.”



Buffy’s eyes snapped open as she turned her head towards the familiar voice. The blond annoyance was sitting on a wooden chair next to the bed she was lying on. She gave her leg a tug and discovered that he had not only chained her arms, but her legs were also bound. The bed was situated against the wall of a dingy little room she didn’t recognize. Apparently, Spike had thought better than taking her back to the crypt. Through the moth-eaten curtains, she could see that the windows had been bricked up. Spike had been a very busy little vampire.



“This is not funny, Spike!” she growled giving him a look that could kill had he not already been dead. “The chain thing was old before you did it the first time! Now let me up!”



“Not just yet, Slayer,” he replied leaning back on the creaky chair. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and raised it slowly to his lips obviously enjoying the moment. “I brought you here to talk, and you’re not leaving until we’ve done that.”



“You want to talk, then talk,” Buffy sighed. “The faster you talk, the faster I get to kick your ass!”



The smoke floated about the blonde’s head as his lips curved into an aggravating smirk. “Exactly why you’re chained down, luv. Knew your first thought would be a bit of kick the Spike, so the chains stay on until you’re ready to sit down and talk like adults.”



“You call kidnapping me and chaining me to a bed acting like an adult?” She fought hard to keep her voice even.



“No, I call it keeping my ass in tact,” he replied stomping out the half smoked cigarette on the floor. He stood up and approached the edge of the bed. The glint in his blue eyes as he looked down at her made every nerve ending in her body tingle. She fought the urge to squirm refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was making her uncomfortable.



“You’ll stay put,” he continued, “until I know I can trust you to carry on a civil conversation without trying to put a stake through my chest.”



“I’ll get loose sometime,” Buffy growled giving the chain around her wrist a hard jerk. She sighed in frustration when the wall at the other end of the chain didn’t even crack.



“Not bloody likely, luv.” He smiled at his handiwork. “Besides, even if you do, you’ll have a tough time getting out the door. Called in a favor and did a little spell casting of my own. Kind of a de-invite spell in reverse. You don’t leave till I invite you.”



He had seemed to have thought of everything. She supposed she should have been thankful that he hadn’t been this devious before the chip, or he just might have gotten his one good day.



“You can’t keep me here forever. They’re going to miss me soon, and…”



“The cavalry won’t be coming to the rescue this time,” he sneered. “Paid your friend Warren a little visit and placed an order.”



“You…” She searched her foggy memory. What could Warren for a vampire? Sure he was an electronics genius, but… Her hallucination! God, he didn’t… “You had Warren make a robot me? They’ll never fall for it. They know me!”



“They’ll figure it out eventually,” he agreed with a shrug, “but in the meantime it’ll give us some time to clear the air. Now, why don’t you relax? I made a pit stop at the DoubleMeat Palace, figured you’d be hungry.”



Buffy’s head sunk into the pillow as she watched the vampire leave the room. She just had to be patient. Willow and Xander would spot the robot right away, and when they had helped her out of this mess, she was going to introduce that platinum pest to the pointy end of a stake.





TBC…

“Spike! Where the hell are you!” Buffy called out shifting about on the bed and giving her leg another tug to test the chain. How long did it take to grab a bag of fast food? Not that she really wanted to spend anymore “quality time” with the vampire, but she couldn’t talk him into letting her go if he wasn’t in the room.



“Can’t stand to be away from me for a minute, eh Slayer?” he teased coming back to the room with a white bag filled to capacity in his hand.



He gave her a mocking smile as he emptied the bag’s contents on the small table near the foot of the bed. She had never understood how Dawn could gorge herself of the DoubleMeat fair, but as the scent reached her nose, Buffy could feel her stomach lurch in response reminding her that she had missed her dinner that night.



“Actually, I’d prefer if it were more like a few years,” she shot back. “So, if you’d just unlock these chains…”



“Good try, Slayer,” he replied settling onto the chair next to the bed. “You know the deal. The chains stay on until we’ve had our little talk.”



“So let’s talk already! I can’t be wasting time here. Dawn’s at home, alone…”



“I told you, luv. That’s all taken care of,” Spike insisted. “The ‘bot will watch over the ‘Bit. She’ll be safe and sound. So why don’t you relax for a bit.”



“Relax?” Buffy laughed, her eyes rolling toward the cracked ceiling. “Here? With you?”



The vampire shrugged and gave her a playful grin. “Well, yeah. You’ve got yourself all twisted up in knots trying to take care of everyone else. Think you’ve earned a little time off. Unless, you find it hard to relax with me around?”



“That is so not funny!” she snapped continuing to study the ceiling with intense interest.



The way he looked down at her made it hard for her to just lie there. It made her feel like he could see right through her clothes, and the thought made her stomach tickle nervously. It was like her body had forgotten who it was sitting there leering at her, and it just added to her anger.



“Didn’t mean it to be,” he replied turning his attention back to the carton of french fries he held. “So, ready for dinner, pet?’



“I’m not hungry,” she pouted.



“Quit being stubborn,” he sighed holding the food a bit closer. The smell made her stomach do another flip-flop. “I could hear your stomach halfway across the room even without the vampire hearing. Accepting a little food isn’t going to hurt you.”



She eyed the fries warily. She didn’t want to accept anything from him, but her stomach had other ideas. Taking the food he offered wouldn’t mean anything. Besides, if she wanted to escape, she would have to keep her energy up.



“Fine,” she sighed, “but I can’t eat with my hands chained up.”



His blue eyes sparkled playfully as he considered her predicament. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to feed you then.”



“You have lost it!” Buffy groaned. “There is no way I’m…”



“Right then,” he replied popping one of the fries into his mouth. “I guess you’re not all that hungry after all. Shame to let them go to waste, and it would have been a step in proving that I could trust you enough to take off the chains—if my hand came back with all the fingers that is.”



God, he really was evil, chip or not! She closed her eyes as he popped another fry into his mouth.



“Fine,” she mumbled her eyes still closed. She just couldn’t stand the sight of his smug face when she gave in. “Would you just give me some already, and if you try anything I will kick your ass, chains or not!”



“Such a dirty little mind you have, Slayer!” he laughed holding a fry to her lips.



Buffy hesitated, the scent of the food tickling her nostrils. She could do this. She just had to pretend she was back at home, and this was Riley. She could even pretend that it was strawberries instead of greasy fast food. Slowly, she opened her mouth letting him place the food on her tongue. She shivered as his finger ran softly over her lower lip.



“Spike,” she warned still not brave enough to actually look at him as she forced herself to swallow.



“Something wrong, Buffy?”



His cool breath brushed over her mouth. When did he get so close? For that matter, when did it get so warm in the room? She lifted her heavy lids just a bit to find his intense blue eyes looking down into her own.



“Spike, I… I,” She couldn’t think straight with him this close. She didn’t want this, but her body seemed to have cut off communication with her brain. She sighed softly as his lips met hers. It was nothing like she had expected—not that she had ever spent any time fantasizing about kissing Spike! His lips moved over hers in a gentle caress that made her breath come quicker. It was actually rather…



God, what was she doing! Temporary insanity had set in, pure and simple. It had just been so long since she had been kissed. She had left herself get carried away.



“Spike!” Buffy cried turning her head roughly to the side. “Stop it! Get off of me!”



The vampire gazed down at the girl blankly as her words took a moment to sink in. Then he jerked back from the bed and stood glaring down at her.



“Bloody hell, Slayer!” he growled his chest heaving angrily. It was a habit of his she had noticed. As if when he was upset he forgot that breathing really wasn’t necessary. “What’s wrong now?”



“What’s wrong?” She glared up at him, her small hands curling into tight fists. She cursed the chains about her wrists. This was the portion of the conversation where she should be pummeling him. “This is wrong! You—you kissing me! That brings new meaning to wrong!”



Spike ran a hand through his hair causing the heavily gelled stands to turn into unruly curls over his forehead before he spoke as if trying to decide what he wanted to say. “It didn’t feel wrong to me…”



“It was, and you know it,” Buffy snapped.



“It wasn’t wrong,” Spike continued, “and you bloody well wanted it just as much as I did!”



“I…I did not!” She sounded like Dawn trying to argue her way out of a grounding. “I only kissed you because… because I was thinking about Riley!”



The look on his face was nearly as satisfying as if she had hit him. He just stood there frozen to the spot save for a small tick at the corner of his mouth. Just when she thought he’d given up on the argument, his lips curved into a smirk, and he cocked his eyebrow that way he always did when had something smart to say.



“So, soldier boy was into the kinky stuff, eh Slayer?” he teased. “Like to tie you down for a little of the rough tumble?”



“No!” she cried feeling her cheeks burning to a deep shade of scarlet. “He wouldn’t… We never… It’s none of your business what we did or didn’t do!”



“Struck a nerve, did we?” he laughed as he reached into his pocket.



Her eyes followed the path of his hand down to his jeans. Her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red when she noticed the twinkle in his eyes when he saw where her eyes had drifted. She jerked away when he leaned over her and took her wrist into his grasp. Ignoring her reaction, he placed the key into the lock holding the chain in place.



“What are you doing?” she asked suddenly confused. Had she annoyed him enough to make him let her go?



“You said yourself,” he replied moving down to her ankles, “you can’t eat tied up.”



She sat up quickly once she was free. She watched him walk towards the door too shocked by his actions to make good on the beating that she had promised him when the chains had come off.



“Where are you going?”



He paused at the doorway, but didn’t bother to turn around. “I’m tired, pet—and don’t bother thinking about trying to do me in while I’m out. You still need my invitation to get out of here.”





TBC…

Buffy sat on the bed staring blankly at the closed door. Her fingers rubbed absently at her bruised wrist. Lot of good all the struggling had done her. Now she had a nice ring of purple bruises on her arm to explain away when she was free again. Of course, she could always share the news of the kiss, and the bruises were sure to become of very little interest.



What had she been thinking? Lips of Spike—the phrase flashed through her mind. She didn’t have the magic excuse this time. She had kissed him of her own free will. Spike had been right about one thing—she was under way too much stress. She would never have been insane enough to kiss that annoying vamp!



She muttered a very unladylike oath as she rose from the bed. She got a slight bit of satisfaction as she smooshed the fries Spike had dropped to the floor under the heel of her shoe as she crossed the small distance to the little table. Spike wanted this little house; he was going to have to learn to do a little housework.



She looked down at the sandwiches, but all traces of hunger were gone. French fries were one thing, but doublemeat burgers? She just couldn’t bring herself to put whatever they put in those things into her mouth. She still remembered the rumors—that the “special” ingredient wasn’t beef. Okay, like she wasn’t disgusted enough by the kiss! Eating wasn’t going to be an option for quite a while. The food forgotten, she headed for the door. Spike had said she couldn’t leave without his invitation, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily true. Besides, even if it were true, it would be a good idea to get to know the lay of the land. There was bound to be a weak spot someplace. Spike always forgot something.



Buffy made her way slowly down the steps to the first floor running her fingers along the wall in search of a light switch. Damned irritating vampire! You’d think he would have left a light or two on. With the windows all bricked up, it wasn’t like anyone would see it from the outside!



The steps ended directly across from the front door. For a long moment, she thought about trying to run for it. If it weren’t also bricked up, she could at least stand in the doorway and try to get someone’s attention. She could send for Willow who could work on a way to break Spike’s invitation spell. It seemed like a good idea, but there was the chance that the passerby she attracted could be one of Glory’s minions. They weren’t exactly the brightest, but they would be able to put things together. Glory would know the Slayer’s family was unprotected. She just couldn’t take the chance.



Sighing in frustration, she turned her attention from the door and made her way to the kitchen. It was a fairly large room filled with all the finest appliances from the fifties. Aimlessly, she pulled open the cabinets and wasn’t overly surprised by their contents. Apparently, the vampire sleeping on the second floor thought she could survive on cookies, snack cakes, and a huge amount of cocoa.



Not hoping for much, she crossed to the fridge and pulled the heavy door open. She had seen some truly disgusting sights in her time, but the contents of the fridge made her empty stomach lurch. The lunchmeat Spike had stored there actually looked rather attractive, or would have had Spike’s blood supply been sitting right next to it. She had seen worse, but it only reminded her of who was holding her hostage, and she was not going to play little miss homemaker with him!



She slammed the door of the fridge shut getting a tiny bit of satisfaction from hearing a few of the contents rattle off their shelves as she stalked out of the room and headed back up the stairs. She just couldn’t believe it. Spike seemed to have come up with the perfect plan this time, and judging from his store of “nutritious” snacks, he planned to keep her there for quite some time.



Buffy came to a halt in front of the closed door just down the hallway from her room. There was only one other door on this level behind which she could hear the telltale sounds of a leaky faucet. It was such a surprise that Spike’s bedroom would be right next to hers.



She stood in the hallway staring at the door for a few endless moments. She wanted to kick in the door and plunge a large chunk of wood into the arrogant vampire’s chest. It wasn’t like he hadn’t left her with plenty of ammunition, she thought recalling the rickety table and chair back in her room. Unfortunately, that pleasure would have to wait until she found a way out of the damned house.



Without thinking, she reached out her hand and quietly pushed the door open. Had she thought about it, she would have been stalking down the hall to her room rather than nosing around a vampire’s bedroom.



It was pretty much as she expected. The curtains were pulled shut to block out the sunlight despite the bricks already filling in the pane. There were various rock band posters, most of which she hadn’t ever heard of, decorating the walls. She rolled her eyes at the sight of them. Only Spike would hatch a plot to kidnap the Slayer and take the time to decorate!



His clothes were littered about the floor save for his prize duster which was folded neatly and draped over the back of a chair sitting next to a small desk that was topped with a few books and scraps of paper. The desk caught her attention for a moment. Buffy just never pictured Spike reading anything—well, maybe Playboy and not for the articles!



With that disturbing image in mind, her eyes ventured to the bed. It was quite large. Way to prove your love—letting the woman you claim to love sleep on some dingy cot! Buffy groaned inwardly. She really was losing it. She was a hostage, and she was being petty about the accommodations!



She was just about to return to her room when her gaze came to rest on the bed’s occupant. Suddenly, her feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seem Spike without his shirt, but it was different this time. Maybe it was because it was when he as awake, his mouth was always managing to piss her off and drawing her attention away from his looks. Asleep, his face looked so different without the mocking smirk and the wicked gleam in his blue eyes. He looked almost innocent. She felt entranced by his face, but after a few long moments, her eyes drifted lower. Her gaze roamed over the smooth skin of his chest and his firm stomach coming to a stop where the sheet lay low over his hips.



Her breath caught in her throat. What was she thinking? She knew exactly what she was thinking—and she knew it was completely wrong. Angrily, she turned from the door and stalked back to her own room. It had been a long time since Riley had left, but not getting any was no excuse for standing there checking out Spike!





****







“Hey, it’s the Buffster!” Xander announced as the Slayer entered the magic shop. He came around the corner of the counter sporting a look of relief. Apparently, Anya had been giving him another rendition of the ‘why money is wonderful’ lecture. “Did you get the littlest Summers off to school okay?”



“Yes, she is safe at school.” Buffy paused a moment. “Xander.”



“I suppose you’ll be wanting to do more research again,” Anya muttered stashing the money back into the register. “It makes the customers uncomfortable.”



“We need to do research!” Willow snapped while pushing her philosophy book into her bag and grabbing one of the tests from the ever-present pile on the table.



“I know it’s important!” the ex-demon shot back. “I was just saying maybe we could hold off until after closing time. Buffy will wait till the evening to train.”



“Kicking a punching bag is a little different than reading a book!” Will objected.



“Guys, tension is getting thick here,” Xander but in stepping between his girlfriend and the Wicca. “We should be worrying about Glory not snipping at each other.”



“Xander is right,” Buffy added cheerfully. “Glory is the problem. She is a tacky dresser and has big hair.”



“O-kay.” Xander’s eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment. “I don’t really think her fashion sense is our biggest problem. Although, it would make things a lot easier if we could be researching Cosmo.”



“Buffy,” Willow asked looking concerned, “are you feeling okay?”



“Yes, I am fine,” she replied grinning broadly.



“You…you just sound strange,” she observed. “You didn’t run into Spike or anything did you?”



“No.” Her expression fell quickly. “I have not seen Spike in days. I wonder if he misses me?”



“Misses you?” Xander scoffed. “Deadboy has hopefully gotten it through his thick skull that he’s not wanted and is on his way out of Sunnydale.”



“Spike would never leave!” Buffy looked suddenly alarmed. “Would he?”



“I don’t know. He has before,” Will added ignoring the dirty look Xander shot across the room. “I mean, it’s probably for the best—isn’t it? Yeah, he’s helped us once or twice, but if he thought he had a chance with you, he could do anything.”



“And we don’t have time for love sick vampires,” Anya added. “We have to get rid of Glory before all our patrons are scared away.”



“Maybe we should get back to the books,” the redhead sighed as she flipped through a few crisp, yellowing pages rather than starting the old argument with the ex-demon again. “Pull up a book, Buffy.”



“I’d better hit the cemetery—not to see Spike—to slay vampires. That’s what I do.”



“Um, Buffy,” Xander added, “it’s the middle of the day. The vamps are all tucked away in their little beddie-byes with visions of bleeding victims dancing in their heads.”



“Then I should be training.” The Slayer didn’t wait for an answer as she headed for the back door of the shop.



“Hey!” Anya called as the door swung shut behind Buffy. “You said you wouldn’t train during business hours!”



“So,” Xander settled on a bench next to the table, “am I the only one who thinks Buffy’s acting just a little freaky?”



“Well, she had been through a lot.” Willow cast a worried gaze at the door. “Sick mom, Dawn a mystical key thingy, Riley leaving, and now Spike. Anybody would be a little freaky.”





TBC…

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.”



“Not yet. I don’t want to go to school today,” Buffy groaned brushing the annoying hand from her shoulder. How she hated her mother’s cheerful demeanor in the morning. She had never been a morning person, even before finding out about the whole Slayer gig, and spending the night exploring the house didn’t help matters… The house… Spike! Her eyes snapped open to find his smiling face a few inches above her own.



“Well, that was rather cliché, wasn’t it, pet?” he laughed.



“Very funny!” she groaned raising a hand to his chest and giving him a rough shove as she scrambled from the bed. “Isn’t it enough that you’re holding me prisoner? Can’t you leave me sleep?”



“Can’t have you sleeping the morning away, luv,” he replied with a shrug.



“Like you can tell it’s morning with the windows bricked up,” she snapped.



“Vampire, remember?” he replied smugly. “We do tend to know when morning’s coming. Besides, breakfast will be ready soon. Thought you’d want to clean up a bit.”



“You made breakfast?” She leaned her back against the wall as visions of scrambled eggs topped with a generous helping of Type O ran through her mind. “Since when do you cook?”



“You pick up a few things over the years,” Spike replied sounding rather proud of himself. “Vampire’s don’t have to eat, but variety is nice, even if it’s not nourishing. Now, go grab a shower while I finish up. You’ll find some clothes in the bathroom.”



“You stole my clothes too?” she sighed.



“Well, yeah,” he replied heading for the door. “Couldn’t really hit the mall, could I? And wouldn’t want you running around naked, would we?”



“You wish!” Buffy hissed at the empty doorframe. The pictures she had found in Spike’s crypt had been bad enough, but the idea of the vampire being in her room pawing through her things made her skin crawl.



She squared her shoulders and headed for the bathroom. More than anything, she wanted to give the interloping vampire a huge piece of her mind, but it would have to wait. If she wanted to get out of the house, she was going to have to be—God, she hated the thought—nice to Spike.



The bathroom was just as dated as the appliances in the kitchen. Apparently, whoever built the house thought the best way to wake a person up was the use of sunny yellow tiling. Buffy found her clothes hanging on a towel rack next to the sink where Spike had placed a green toothbrush still fresh in the packaging for her use. She was rather surprised that Spike hadn’t nicked her toothbrush when he had taken her clothes. Then again, it would have been hard for her to overlook a missing toothbrush or hair dryer. Although, she probably would have accused Dawn of borrowing her things without asking like she had done with the blue silk top that was now hanging on the towel rack. She’d have to remember to apologize to her sister when she got home.



Buffy poked her head around the door and glanced down the hallway towards the stairway. She could hear the sounds of clanging pans and utensils coming from the kitchen. It was still rather hard to picture Spike being all domestic, but at least she knew where he was while she was showering considering there wasn’t any lock on the door. Satisfied that her host was otherwise occupied, she closed the door and pulled her rumbled shirt over her head. The location could have been a lot better, but she was looking forward to a long, hot shower.





****







“About time you came downstairs,” Spike teased when the Slayer finally made an appearance in the kitchen. “Breakfast is getting cold.”



“Excuse me for taking my time,” she shot back as she settled into a chair beside the Formica topped table. “Didn’t know we had any pressing appointments.”



“A little snippy this morning, aren’t we, pet?” he teased placing a plate of food on the table in front of her before taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the table. “After I slaved away over a hot stove.”



“I didn’t ask you to make breakfast,” she reminded her companion.



“Couldn’t let you starve,” Spike replied the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. He seemed to be enjoying their little morning banter. Of course, he was. He had her just where he wanted her. “Wouldn’t make me a very good host, now would it?”



“And the lack of a way out has nothing to do with it,” Buffy muttered taking a quick bite of her French toast. Se was completely forgetting she was supposed to be nice to Spike. The best idea was to keep her mouth busy with something other than talking. “This is good.”



“You sound surprised,” he laughed as she placed another large, syrup drenched bite into her mouth. “Over a hundred years, you do tend to pick up a thing or two, or did you think all I did was sit around plotting the demise of the latest Slayer?”



“Well, you did seem rather single-minded when you arrived in Sunnydale,” she pointed out.



“Yeah, well, I had a rather intriguing subject to keep me occupied,” he replied. Her cheeks burned as he gazed at her over the breakfast table. His compliments had a way of affecting her like Riley’s never had. She had to remind herself that he had been preoccupied with her, because he had wanted to kill her.



“You really didn’t have to bother,” she replied. It was best to change the course of the conversation. It was hard enough to be nice to the vampire under the circumstances, but there was no way she could stay calm with him flirting with her. “I usually just do coffee in the morning.”



“So Dawn told me,” he answered. “You’d think a Slayer would take better care of herself…”



“You talked to Dawn about me?” Her eyes rose from her plate to glare at her companion. Dawn was so going to hear it when she got home. It was bad enough that she had been sneaking around to hang out with Spike like he was some kind of study buddy from school, but knowing that she had sat there in that crypt sharing all the intimate details of her life with the vampire made her furious and embarrassed at the same time. How many times did she have to tell that girl that he was a vampire and therefore dangerous? What was next for her? Sharing tales of her past life as the Key with Glory’s minions over tea and smores?



Spike shrugged like it wasn’t anything to get particularly upset about. Of course, from his side of things, it wasn’t. It wasn’t his dirty secrets being put out on display for his archenemy. “You came up on occasion among other things. The Bit just needed to talk.”



“She has me to talk to and mom,” she snapped, a feeling of guilt mixed into her anger. Riley had left claiming that she was distant, and now her own sister was looking elsewhere for a confidant. “She doesn’t need to discuss our personal life with a demon.”



“Your kid sis sees past the demon.” His fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly. Buffy felt her muscles tighten preparing for the physical confrontation that always followed their discussions. “I know you don’t believe it, but I like your sis, your mom too. They don’t treat me like…”



“Like the soulless monster you are?” She regretted the words the moment they had passed her lips. She had meant to charm her way out of the house, but somehow their conversations always ended up in an argument. “Spike, I… I didn’t…”



“Didn’t mean it?’ he growled rising quickly from the table. His eyes glittered with anger as he glared at the girl sitting on the far side of the table. “You always mean it, Slayer. You just don’t want to see I’ve changed. I am a demon, and I help you and your mates fight my kind, I watch over hour kid sister when she decides to take a stroll after midnight. I go out of my way just to please you, and do I get any appreciation? Even a bloody thank you?”



“Spike, I…” Her mouth moved, but she just couldn’t find the words. He had been a help over the last few months, but she knew now that it was only an attempt to impress her. He did it because he loved her. Riley had let vampires feed off him, because he loved her. She had forgiven him for hurting her, blamed herself for pushing him away. Spike was going out of his way, against his nature, to please her, and all she could do was insult him.



“Save it, Slayer,” Spike snapped as he stalked from the kitchen.



“Well, that went well,” Buffy sighed poking absently at her breakfast with her fork. She didn’t think he’d be pressing the issue of her feelings in the near future, but he hadn’t let her out of the house either. She should have been angry about that fact, but she couldn’t shake the guilty feeling. Where was Xander with a good Spike put down when she needed it? The fork clattered onto the edge of the plate as she pushed her chair over the faded linoleum. She never thought she’d ever do this willingly, but she and Spike needed to talk.





TBC…

A/N: I apologize for not updating this in forever! My lazy brain simply refused to actually work with me. I hope you’re still interested in reading!







Buffy climbed the narrow stairs slowly. She was dreading what she was about to do, but her conscious wouldn’t let her turn around and return to the kitchen. She never thought she’d develop a guilty conscious when it came to Spike, but he had been right. He had looked out for Dawn, even helped her and the Scoobies. He had proven Tara was human when her family had tried to force her to leave Sunnydale. His method could have broken the girl’s nose, but it had worked, and he hadn’t had to do it. Granted, Spike was a huge pain in her ass, but like it or not he had tried to help, and he didn’t deserve her harsh words. Besides, harsh words weren’t going to get her out of the house. She couldn’t take the chance that he would get pissed off enough that he’d leave her trapped there.



She paused before the closed door of the vampire’s bedroom for a moment waiting for the Slayer side of her to finally speak up and remind her she really didn’t have to apologize to a demon, especially one holding her hostage. She waited patiently, but the little voice remained stubbornly silent. Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The moment the Slayer entered the room, Spike jumped up from his seat at the writing desk, shoving the paper he had been scribbling on beneath a nearby book before turning to face her.



“Ever hear of knocking, Slayer?” he snapped. “This isn’t the crypt, or do you just barge into any soddin’ place where you’re not wanted?”



“Didn’t think you’d let me in,” she replied with a shrug. It wasn’t surprising that he was angry, but Buffy refused to let him get to her. She was going to have her say, and then she was out of there.



“Damned right!” he agreed with a dry laugh. “I’m a glutton for punishment when it comes to you, Slayer, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t had enough. So, why don’t you toddle off to your room? You can think of a few good insults. The evil monster bit is getting old, luv. I thought you were witty. Come up with a little more variety…”



“I’m sorry,” she broke in quietly.



“You’re what?” Spike’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he crossed his arms over his chest.



“You heard me,” she replied, stubbornly refusing to repeat herself. It had been hard enough to say it the first time. “You were right, okay? You have been a help lately, and I was wrong to put you down.”



“So that’s it?” he sighed. There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he crossed the small room.



Buffy raised her chin to gaze up at him. Having him so close make every nerve ending in her body spark into life, but she refused to back away. She wasn’t going to let him know that he affected her in anyway. “That’s it,” she agreed with a shrug. “I said it. What more do you want? A parade?”



His lips curled into a playful smirk. “Nothing so grand, luv. We’re not in grade school. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t make everything better. I need some proof of your sincerity.”



“And what exactly would that be?’ she asked dreading what might be running through his twisted mind.



“A kiss might do the trick,” he suggested. “Not a peck on the check like you would give Niblet when you’re tucking her into beddy-by.”



“You’ve got to be kidding!” she growled. Her heart sped up a few beats as she glared up at the vampire. She should have known he would take advantage of the situation.



“I’m not asking that much, Slayer,” he pushed.



“You’re asking a hell of a lot! I said I was wrong, and I apologized. Take it or leave it!”



Buffy expected him to back away, start ranting about how stubborn she was, but he just stood there gazing down at her. She fought hard to control her reaction to his closeness. Even if he weren’t a vampire, he had to know how he was affecting her.



“That’s how it always is, eh Slayer?’ he replied softly as he reached up to twirl a strand of her long, blond hair between his fingertips. “I bet if Soldier Boy asked for a make up kiss, he’d gotten it, even after letting that vamp bitch suck on him. Probably that, and a little bit more. Let the Big Bad ask for one little kiss, and it’s…”



“Would you just shut up already!” she growled leaning up on her toes to press her lips firmly against his before he could finish his tirade. She felt a flicker of satisfaction feeling Spike’s lips tense beneath hers, obviously surprised by the Slayer’s actions. The satisfaction didn’t last long, as Spike’s momentary paralysis wore off, and he leaned in to return her kiss. She sighed as the tip of his tongue grazed over her lower lip. Her fingers traced over his stomach through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Vaguely, she wondered when her hands had left her sides and traveled to their present location. She had kissed him only meaning to shut him up, to prove his accusation wrong.



“Spike, I…” she sighed feeling his hands skimming lightly over her sides. His fingertips grazed the underside of her breast, and her own hands balled up tiny fistfuls of black material in response as she gave him a hard push. “I can’t!”



“Bloody hell!” he mumbled stumbling back a few steps before regaining his balance. “You seemed to be doing fine for someone who can’t. You started it after all!”



“I know,” Buffy replied staring at the wall just over is shoulder unable to look him in the eye. “And I shouldn’t have. I can’t be here making out with a… with you. Not when Dawn and Mom are at home with no one to protect them.”



“I told you that’s taken care of,” he insisted. “I’d never put them in danger.”



“And when Glory figures out it’s not really me?” she asked.



“That won’t happen.”



“You can’t be sure of that. We still don’t know everything she’s capable of,” Buffy pointed out. She had to make him see she couldn’t stay there. She was the Slayer, and unfortunately, the job didn’t come with vacation time. “What happens when her batteries run down? What if it happens in the middle of a fight with Glory? Don’t you think that might just tip her off?’



“That won’t happen,” Spike pleaded. ‘D… I made arrangements. The ‘Bot will get recharged every night. Would it make you feel better if I check in on your mum and the Bit when the sun goes down?”



“It would make me feel better if I could check in on the them,” she snapped shooting him an icy glare.



“And that’s not going to happen—not yet, anyway,” he replied stubbornly. “You’ll just have to trust me.”





TBC…

Finally! I actually managed to write something on this one! I've had the worse case of writer's block lately! Thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to leave a review! Hope you like the latest, even if it's a little on the short side!




Buffy leaned back against the wall as she sat on the bed staring blankly at the door on the far side of the room. Her thoughts were muddled—pretty much her typical state when the topic of Spike entered her thoughts. How she longed for high school, back when confrontation with the blond pain in her ass only led to thoughts of staking him out of existence. He still came up with his bonehead schemes—like locking her up not once but twice—but then he had to go and redeem himself by caring for her mom and sister, saving Tara from her family, telling her he loved her. Okay, the last one didn’t count. It only annoyed her all the more. He was so much easier to deal with when he just wanted to kill her.

She wished he would get back already. He’d left the house about an hour after sunset to check on the Summers household. It was comforting to have him check on them, but with him out of the house, she wasn’t making any progress getting out herself.

She was tired of sitting there with her thoughts flip flopping between hating Spike for locking her up and feeling guilty for being cruel to him when he was actually trying to be helpful lately. It was so much simpler before the chip, and he was just an evil thorn in her side.

With a frustrated groan, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose to her feet. It wasn’t doing her any good sitting there debating the vampire’s good and bad points, she decided crossing the room to the door. With him out of the house, she should take advantage and check out his room. She doubted she’d be lucky enough to find a cell phone or anything, but maybe there might be something that could give her some idea what spell he had used to trap her in the house. Besides, she was rather curious what Spike had been busy working on at his writing desk when she had barged in that morning.


****



Spike sighed in relief as he hid in the shadows behind the tree in the Summers’ yard. His first stop after he had left the abandoned house had been the cemetery. The ‘Bot had been programmed to do a nightly patrol, but when he had found the place empty, he had been afraid Buffy had been right, and Glory was pulling a rewiring job on the ‘Bot at that very moment.

Pushing those fears aside, he made his way across Sunnydale to Buffy’s house. The ‘Bot had also been programmed to return there after patrol or if she had been injured. He felt his tense muscles relax when he spotted the light coming from Buffy’s bedroom window. Moving quickly, he crossed the yard and pulled himself onto the porch railing.


****



“And how are we doing this evening, ladies?” Spike quipped as he slipped through the open window.

The ‘Bot lay immobile on the Slayer’s bed, long wires connecting her to a complicated-looking battery charger on the floor next to the bed. Her eyes were closed as though she was asleep. Luck was really with him. He had told Warren to program the 'Bot to like him—couldn’t hurt having her put in a few good words on his behalf—but the stupid idiot had made it a little over zealous about the topic. All he needed was to have Joyce discover him in her daughter’s room fighting off her amorous advances.

“God, Spike!” Dawn turned away from the charger so quickly she nearly pulled out the wires she had been fiddling with. “Can’t you just use the door like a normal person?”

“And who’s going to explain to your mom about how I am able to get into the house again?” he pointed out.

“Okay, point taken,” she replied. “So, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be busy romancing Buffy, or did she manage to kick you out?”

“She wishes,” he laughed dryly as he settled carefully on the bed, forgetting that he couldn’t wake up the ‘Bot while it was in the off mode. “Actually, I promised to check up on you. Give the Slayer a little peace of mind, and then maybe she can focus on why she’s there with her least favorite vamp.”

“So the Big Bad isn’t the Great Romantic?” Dawn teased. “And I thought with all your charm, you’d have her eating out of your hand by now.”

“I can only do so much when she has a bratty kid sis to worry about,” he shot back.

“I am not bratty!” she snapped throwing him an angry glare that lost its bite because of the broad smile curving her lips.

“You only helped the vampire whisk her away for a little romantic interlude,” Spike reminded her. “You’re not bratty at all.”

“I can’t help it Buffy’s stubborn.” She shrugged as she settled onto the floor next to the charger. “If she wasn’t so pig-headed, we wouldn’t have to go to such extremes to open her eyes.”

“Maybe I fell for the wrong sister,” he replied causing the girl’s cheeks to flush a bright pink. “So everything’s going well with the ‘Bot?”

“No problems so far,” Dawn reported. “She’s a little over enthusiastic about you, but I think they’re just chalking it up to stress. At least, there hasn’t been any phone calls wanting to know why Buffy’s suddenly acting like a pod person.”

“And on the Glory front?”

“Surprisingly, she’s been rather quiet lately,” she continued. “Maybe she heard there was a sale at the mall. Can’t destroy the world in last month’s fashions.”

“So everything’s quiet on the home front,” Spike decided, rising from the bed and heading back towards the window. “Then I’d better get back to my guest before she gets bored and starts kicking out the windows to get even with me. Have fun with the ‘Bot, pet.”

“Oh yeah,” Dawn sighed as the vampire disappeared out the window. “Maybe tomorrow we can go shopping for matching ‘I love Spike’ t-shirts.”


TBC…