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Chapter Three


Buffy perched on the stool next to Spike at the kitchen counter and peered at him inquisitively.

He closed his mouth, stopping himself from shoveling the wad of pancakes on his fork
into his mouth and placed the fork down. "What?" he asked.

She smiled, "What are you doing today?"

He cleared his throat. "Looking for a job, why?

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

The corners of his mouth tugged into an amused grin. "Not what you were wanting
then?"

"I was hoping we could hang out."

"Well sweets, we can surely hang out afterwards. I promised Dad I'd look for
employment."

"Like what?"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, "What kind of employment?"

He shrugged. "Not sure yet."

"Well, what did you go to school for?"

"I didn't finish school Buffy, you know that."

"But I figured even if you didn't, you'd want to do whatever it is you went for."

"I went for English. And pretty much without a degree, I'm serving up fries."

She wrinkled her nose again. "Ew. Don't do that."

He chuckled, "I'll try not to."

"Do you have a resume?"

"Sad state of affairs it is, but yes."

"All right, well, I'll catch up with you later then. Good luck!" and she slid off the stool.

Spike grabbed her arm, "What did you want to do today if I had been free? Anything
special?"

"Thought we could grab lunch, swing on the swings—"

He laughed, "You still do that?"

"Of course! A worldly woman such as myself still finds time for trivial things such as
that," she said haughtily and then giggled. "Plus, I wanted you to meet some of my friends."

Spike grinned, "I'd like that, kitten. However. . . "

"I know, I know." She sighed, "Maybe later."

"Definitely."


**********************************************************


"So when do I get to meet this brother of yours? The way you talk about him, I feel like
we should roll out the red carpet for when he comes home," Doyle, Buffy's best guy friend
joked as they half watched TV in her room.

She punched his arm playfully and he stroked the spot she hit. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"You'll get to meet him."

"Did you yell at him? Tell him what an ass he was for not bothering with you all this
time?" Doyle asked, peering up at her with bright blue eyes, framed by dark lashes.

"Yeah, we worked it out. . . he said he did miss me."

"Believe him?"

Recalling the passionate words and tight embrace from the night before, Buffy nodded,
feeling a shiver of something course through her.

"Uh-oh. What are you thinking about?"

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Something's up. You've got pensive face."

She scowled at him, "I don't like that you can tell what I'm thinking like that."

Doyle shrugged, "It's a cross I have to bear, being sensitive to your moods. Spill."

"Something's different about him."

"I imagine being married and then divorced so quickly to a ‘psycho' as you put it, can
put a strain on a man."

"How would you know?"

"That's it Summers," Doyle bounded up and tackled a giggling Buffy to the bed. "I
know where to get you!" he exclaimed and began digging into her sides.

Buffy was laughing and shrieking so much, she could barely breathe. She really was
trying to grab Doyle's hands away from her, but he was too quick.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here? What are you doing on top of my sister?"

Doyle froze, Buffy froze. Buffy tilted her head to see Spike in the doorway, red-faced
and menacing.

"Tickle Fest, 2005. No worries," Doyle said gallantly and climbed off Buffy, brushing his
dark locks out of his face. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Doyle. You must be Spike."

Spike's eyes narrowed and he stared at Doyle's hand as if it were a sickness Doyle was

trying to give him.

Buffy got up and fixed her clothing. "Spike, he wasn't hurting me. Doyle's kind of a
sissy."

Doyle mock glared at her and she giggled again.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Spike grunted and walked out of the room.

Doyle raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, something is definitely up with him."

"You can tell?"
"You'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see it!"

"Any clue what it is, Oh Omnipotent one?"

Doyle shook his head, "I'm not at liberty to say."

"Yeah, because you don't know," Buffy snorted.

"Oh, I know," Doyle said cryptically. "I know enough to give you some time together
now."

Buffy looked at him oddly. Doyle merely pecked her nose and climbed out her window.

Running down the stairs, Buffy nearly collided with Spike who was standing at the
bottom, staring at her. He caught her in his grasp and steadied her.

"Did you find a job?" she asked, finding her balance.

"Where's your friend?" he asked, his hands gripping her arms.

"He left."

"I didn't hear – or see—" H frowned. "Out the window?"

Buffy nodded. "Yep, out the window."

"That ends now, or I tell Dad and Mum," he said harshly.

Her eyes widened. "Mom and Giles already know about Doyle—they even know that
he climbs in there—that I climb in there. Spike, I know you haven't been around for oh, four
fucking years, but I am twenty years old now. A legal adult. I have no restrictions and Mom
and Giles don't ground me anymore." She yanked herself free from him.

"They let you just sleep with him in the house?" Spike shouted in outrage.

Buffy's jaw dropped, "Sleep with—you mean sex?"

"Don't play dumb with me Buffy."

She couldn't help it, she started to laugh. "Sex with Doyle. Now that is funny."

"You two sure looked cozy back there," he said accusingly.


"I don't sleep with Doyle like that. I don't have sex with him. I don't turn him on that
way, Spike."

"You've got a lot to learn about men, Buffy," he told her darkly.

"I know enough about men to know that when they're gay they don't find women
alluring or arousing in that way," she spat.

He was making like a guppy. "You mean he's—"

"Gay? Yes."

"I feel really dumb right now."

Buffy patted him on the back, "Yeah, marinate in that feeling for a while since you just
embarrassed me and made an ass out of yourself in front of my best friend."

"Buffy," he started, following her to the kitchen. "I'm sorry for exploding like that."

Turning to him and leaning against the counter, she eyed him. "That stuff probably
would have been more effective if I were still sixteen. But you left remember?"

"How long am I going to be made to feel guilty for that?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, Spike. I'm stating fact. You left for four years
and I grew up. I'm twenty, you're twenty-three. Hell, you got married and divorced in all that
time. I don't go to high school anymore, I go to college. Things aren't the same anymore and
you can't expect to come back here after four years and think things are going to be the same as
how you left them. I really wanted my big brother all that time, but I have to tell you. . . I got
used to you not being here and not ‘looking out' for me."

"I want to look out for you now," Spike said earnestly. "I want to be here . . . for you."

"You can be, just not the same way anymore. Now instead of just siblings, we can
explore what it's like to be friends on top of being related to one another. I'd like to get to know
the person you've become, not the person you were when you left. And I'd like you to get to
know me, as I am now, not the person that was left behind."

"Buffy—"

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty Spike. Someone is always left behind when
someone leaves. It's not always a bad thing. Don't you like it better this way though? I'm not
following you around like a puppy like I used to, right?"

He nodded, looking down at the floor, "I didn't mind too much when you did."

"Yeah, ok. So all those times you told me to ‘get lost' were just because you felt it was
your brotherly duty to tell me that?"

He grinned slightly, looking up at her. "Something like that."

She shook her head and smiled. "Well, as part of getting to know each other now,
maybe we could leave that stuff behind?"

"I'm always going to want to protect you, Buffy," he told her sincerely. "Always."

"You didn't for four years while you were gone, what's the difference now?"

"I'm here now."

"I don't need protecting."

Sighing heavily, Spike ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls. "Can we start
over? Let's pretend I just got home, okay?"

This time, Buffy sighed heavily. "All right, fine."

"Hi Buffy, I'm home now. Would you like to hang out?"

She smiled, a genuine smile. "Yes, I'd like that."





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