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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: Sorry for the wait! But I’ve got another chapter written, so things should flow better...and you know, I always say that and it never seems to happen. Thanks again for all the reviews, a million naked Spikeys to anyone who gave me one! Enjoy the chapter =D
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“Oh my God, Buffy...that’s awful!” Willow exclaimed, concern on her face. “Was Spike there?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “I mean, I told him to go, but knowing Spike, he probably stuck around.”

“Wow...I’m surprised he didn’t help, or at least try to talk to you,” Willow said. “He’s not generally one for—you know—sitting back and not doing anything.”

Buffy shrugged. “I ran up to my room. He might not’ve known where I was,” she said nonchalantly, trying to hide the hurt she felt at the truth in Willow’s words. Why hadn’t Spike comforted her? Wasn’t that what boyfriends were supposed to do?

Except that they weren’t really dating, were they? They’d just had an awesome makeout session on her couch, was all. So he didn’t really owe her any comforting, and she shouldn’t be expecting any.

But dammit, she wanted it!

Willow was watching her friend closely—she was good at that. It didn’t surprise Buffy in the least that her next words were, “You want him to come and comfort you, don’t you?”

“Um...just a little,” Buffy admitted, covering her face in her hands. “This is so dumb...”

“No, no it’s not,” Willow hastened to assure her. “You never know, he might have been looking for something pointy to stab your dad with...not that that’s a good thing, because violence is not the answer, but—“

Buffy was sort of looking forward to a comforting Willow rant about how of course Spike was on his way to comfort her—but no such luck, because the phone rang. Willow snatched it up immediately, her look growing even more anxious, a feat Buffy hadn’t thought was possible. “Tara? Is your grandmother—oh, boy. Yeah—uh-huh. Buffy’s over...no, it’s her dad. Yeah, I can, I’ll get them over...see you.”

Willow hung up the phone, worry in her eyes. “It’s Tara’s grandmother. I told you she was in the hospital, right?” At Buffy’s nod, Willow continued, “Well, it’s getting worse. She’s barely holding on. The stroke she had, it damaged her, her brain, and the doctors are saying she’s only got a little while left—as in, days, maybe hours.” Willow took a deep breath. “Tara’s really upset.”

“Oh my God...” To Buffy’s shame, though she was incredibly concerned about Tara, the first thought was, “Is Spike going to come to the hospital with us?”

Willow looked at her in surprise as she blushed bright red, but the words that came out of her mouth were not what Buffy expected. “You’re coming to the hospital with us?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, unconsciously imitating Spike, from the words to the tone to the look on her face, “Tara’s my friend too, you know.”

“But I didn’t even tell you her grandmother was sick,” Willow said, a perplexed look on her face.

She sighed impatiently. “Look, Wills, I know that up until like a week ago I was this total bitch, but Tara’s my friend, and I’m going to come with the rest of you to the hospital to see Tara and her grandma. Okay?”

“But—after the thing with your dad, and the, the couch—“

“Willow.” Buffy deliberately made her voice firm. “I’m going and that’s the end of it. Okay?”

Willow gave her a small smile. “Right. I’ll just call everybody.”

Twenty minutes and a round of phone calls later, Buffy and Willow were ready to leave. The plan was for the gang to meet in the hospital waiting room, where Tara would be waiting for them. When Willow and Buffy arrived, Xander, Anya and Spike were already waiting for them. Oz and Faith arrived soon after.

When Willow and Buffy walked in, Tara was releasing Spike. When the girl rushed over to talk to Willow, Buffy walked closer to Spike, stopping a few feet away from him.

“Um,” she said, “Hi.”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Silence.

“Listen,” Spike blurted out, “I wasn’t tryin’ to eavesdrop, but I heard what your da said, an’ I would’ve just run in an’ killed the ponce, but blood’s damn hard to get out of the carpet, so—“

If she was a nice person, she would have stopped him before he got so nervous he started rambling about blood and carpets and Oxy-Clean. Fortunately she had a mean streak to rival his—she let him keep talking for about three minutes before she stopped him by laying her hand on his arm.

“Spike.”

He froze and met her eyes. “Yeah, pet?”

“Shut up,” she advised affectionately.

He swallowed hard before nodding.

“So...you heard him call me a slut, and all that?” She said nervously. The fact that he’d heard her made her feel—dirty, somehow. Unwanted.

He moved closer, gripping her shoulders tightly. She was staring at the hospital floor—he placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Hey. It’s not your fault.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “But all I did was stand there. And then I ran away,” she whispered, trying to explain the emotions roiling inside her. “And it made me feel—I felt—“ she bit her lip, trying hard not to look away or to start crying. Both would be equally awful.

“Degraded?” he finished for her, moving closer.

Okay. That was it. Tearsville for Buffy Summers. For about the third time that day tears came streaming out of her eyes. Her hands came up to hug herself out of reflex, but when they reached her shoulders she realized that someone was already there.

She was nestled in Spike’s arms, being held gently but firmly as she cried. She let the tears flow for a few minutes before looking up at him. “Thanks,” she whispered gratefully.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips to hers in a brief, comforting kiss, before turning back to the group of friends that was staring at them, open-mouthed.

“Um...we’re kinda together now,” Buffy told everybody.

“As in, officially?” Xander asked.

“Uh-huh.” Buffy beamed at them, silently praying that they’d accept it.

Faith grinned. “Good on you, B,” she said. “We were gonna start a betting pool on when you and Bleach-Boy got it on.”

“Faith!” Willow scolded. “She wasn’t supposed to know about it!”

That made even Tara crack a smile, but everyone sobered quickly. Buffy gulped and walked over to her friend. “How’s your grandma?” she asked quietly.

“C-critical condition,” Tara managed to get out. “Th-they said there’s n-nothing we can do.” Tears swam in the back of her eyes.

“Oh, God.” Buffy leaned in and hugged her friend, offering her the only comfort she could. “I’m so sorry.”

Tara smiled at her. “I’m just glad you guys are here,” she said quietly. “I—I’m having trouble with...she was close to me.”

Buffy nodded. “I understand—well, I don’t,” she corrected herself. “But we’re here for you.”

Spike walked up to her and slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently. She smiled at him—though they still needed to talk, he was willing to offer her comfort. “We’re all here for you,” he told Tara sincerely.

Tara nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She glanced at the clock, her eyes widening when she took in the time. “I should—I should get back,” she explained. “I’ve left her alone for awhile, and—“

“We get it,” Oz told her. “Go.”

Tara gave him a grateful look before leaving.

They all wandered back to the uncomfortable hospital chairs. After a moment Anya said, “So we’re all sitting here in a waiting room, doing absolutely nothing, because Tara needs moral support but we’re not allowed in her grandmother’s room?”

“Anya,” Willow began in a reproving voice, “That was—“

“Hey! It was not mean,” Anya defended herself. “All I did was say what everyone else was thinking.”

“Well, yeah, but we’re trying to be nice to Tara, Ayn,” Xander tried to explain. “Pointing out the obvious isn’t good when it’s not nice.”

Anya flung herself down into a chair, scowling. “Well, it’s not like I said anything horrible,” she said. “I was merely pointing out the futility of the situation.”

“Which didn’t need to be pointed out,” Buffy said quietly.

Anya stared at her. “Nobody asked you, Little Miss Cheerleader!”

“Hey!” Spike snapped. His grip on her hand tightened. “Watch it, Anya.”

Anya looked at him contemptuously. “Bite me, Spike.”

Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you do I’ll break up with you,” she said frankly.

“Even if I do it in a nice place?” he asked, smirking.

She crinkled her nose when the innuendo sank in. “Okay, ew?” she offered, before turning back to Anya. “And for your information, I quit cheerleading,” she said in a snooty voice.

“You did?” Spike asked, grinning.

Buffy nodded. “I called Cordy Saturday and told her I was quitting the squad. She wasn’t exactly disappointed.”

“Okay, that still doesn’t mean you have any right to criticize me!” Anya said, still clearly annoyed.

“I don’t need your permission to voice my opinion!” Buffy snapped back.

“Guys! Can we just stop?” Willow walked between them. “Because Tara’s important to all of us, and if you keep being big meanies to each other I’ll smack you both.”

“Oh, please. Like you could.” Anya rolled her eyes. “Uber-geeks can’t fight.”

“Ayn, honey, I need to talk to you.” Xander gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “First off, you’re being a bitch. Also, see the look on Willow’s face? That’s her resolve face, meaning that she’ll kick your ass into the next century if you even try to fight with Buffy anymore.”

To everyone’s surprise, Anya sniffled. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being mean, I just—Tara’s grandma is the first one, but what about everyone else’s grandmas? And grandpas? I don’t want anyone to die.”

“That’s the way it is, Anya,” Willow told her quietly.

“I don’t have to like it,” Anya shot back.

“But you do have to deal with it, so stop the whining already,” Faith ordered, rolling her eyes. “Damn. You guys’re like a bunch of two-year-olds!”

“Sorry,” Buffy apologized. Anya soon followed, and everyone settled back into their not-so-comfy chairs.

They couldn’t go home; Tara needed them. All they could do was wait.





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