“Tonight sucks! And, and look at me! Look at, look at stupid Buffy!” she cried, pulling her jacket over one arm. “Too dumb for college, and… and… and freak Buffy, too strong for construction work,” she said in a pouty voice, managing to maneuver the jacket until she successfully had it on. “And, and my job at the magic shop? I was bored to tears even before the hour that wouldn't end! And the only person I can even stand to be around is a… neutered vampire who cheats at kitten poker.”

“Oh,” Spike muttered, slightly uncomfortable, ignoring everything she’d just said. “You saw the cheating, did you?”

“Also?” she continued in a haughty voice, sticking her nose into the air. “I think you're drunk.”

Whirling around with an overly dramatic turn of her hips, she stormed out of the bar, leaving Spike standing behind her.

Stay calm, mate, he told himself, clenching his jaw as he looked at the ceiling and cracked his neck. Won’t do any good to… break her neck. Restraining every violent urge that came to the forefront, Spike focused on the door in front of him before pulling it open.

Waving his hands around in annoyance as he left the bar, he barely managed to stop before nearly running into Buffy. Spike sighed, rolling his eyes as he watched her continue to stand in the middle of the street, her arms crossed over her chest.

“That van,” she murmured, never taking her eyes away from where it was parked down the street.

“You wanna steal a van, I'm with you, love, but we have got the motorcycle,” he said, glancing at the van in an attempt to dissuade his irritation from rising.

Buffy shook her head, almost absentmindedly. “I've seen it before. At the construction site,” she said, slowly approaching it.

“Sunnydale’s a small place, pet. Not like there’s a lot to do around here. Especially after dark.”

Buffy’s frown deepened as she turned toward him. “But what if-”

“You can fill your whole life with ‘what ifs’,” he said gently, hesitantly reaching out to take her by the elbow. “Let’s get you home, Slayer.”

“Slayer,” she repeated, sounding the word out to herself as if she’d never heard it before. “Gotta love it, you know,” she continued, vaguely seeing Spike glance over at her as he led her toward the motorcycle, a smile playing on his lips. “It makes you feel all powerful… strong… kinda sick,” she said with a sharp intake of air, leaning more heavily against Spike as a wave of nausea washed over her.

“Right. Best get you home,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist, surprised when she didn’t pull away. “I’m sure your Watcher or whoever is playing babysitter is getting worried about you.”

“They think I’m patrolling,” she said, closing her eyes to battle the nausea. “No one’s waiting for me.”

Spike nodded, hearing the underlying sadness in her voice. “Well, I’ll get you taken care of and then be off, alright?”

“I can take care of myself,” she said weakly, clutching at her stomach.

“I know you can,” he said, looking at her for a long moment, seeing her eyes dart to his before she looked away. “But sometimes it’s easier to let someone else do it for you.”

Buffy didn’t answer, thinking about the underlying truths of that statement as Spike helped her toward the bike.

Taking a minute to get her situated on the motorcycle, Spike easily mounted the bike, arching an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his back. Taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her body against his, Spike gently ran his fingertips along her hands as they clasped over his abdomen. Clearing his throat to shake himself of his reverie, he started the bike. “You know how I feel about you, Slayer, but you toss your cookies without any warning and we will have a confrontation.”

He thought he heard a slight giggle, feeling a vibration against his back before he felt her nod against him.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said with a smile, directing the bike through the streets of Sunnydale.

* * * * *

“How do you feel?” Spike asked, leading her into the house.

“I think at one point… I actually turned completely inside out,” she said in a groggy voice, walking with slow, measured steps, as if taking one misstep would send her toward the nearest bathroom.

“Well, to be honest, pet, I think the shrubbery got the worst of it,” he said with a kind smile, gently running a hand along her temple, smoothing back the hair that had fallen in her face.

Buffy tried to offer him a weak smile, finding it too hard as she put one foot on the bottom step, grimacing when it made a loud thud to her ears.

“Can’t wake up Dawn,” she muttered, breathing heavily as her body tried to recollect the reserves it just lost.

“Nibblet’s sound asleep in her bed, love. She never has to know a thing… until you wake up with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Please… don’t say the H word,” Buffy said, covering her mouth with her hand, already dreading what the next morning would be like.

“Alright,” he said affectionately. “No mean words. How about I carry you?”

“That means no walking up stairs for Buffy, right?” she asked sleepily, her head already rolling over to rest on his shoulder.

“It does,” he murmured, picking her up and carefully carrying her up the stairs, taking measures not to jar her sensitive stomach. “No more drinking for you,” he teased, seeing a slight smile turn the corner of her lips. “Had I known you were such a lightweight, Slayer, I wouldn’t’ve-”

“Not a lightweight,” she protested meekly. “Just… must have been stronger alcohol in that stuff than I’m used to.”

“The wine coolers you’re used to aren’t exactly the hard stuff,” he said, slowly walking into her room, moving slower than necessary in order to keep her in his arms for a few moments longer.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he murmured, surprised when Buffy shook her head as he lowered her to her feet.

“Mm-no,” she moaned, clutching her stomach as they walked through her room with Buffy heavily leaning on Spike. Making it to the bed, she dropped down to the floor, leaning her head against the side of the mattress.

“Better?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her with an amused expression as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“A little,” she said, taking a deep breath, obviously regretting it a moment later as she looked down at the floor, trying to control the sickening feeling that went through her.

Spike’s amusement soon changed to sympathy as he grabbed a soft blanket from the foot of her bed, balling it up and sitting her up a little straighter to press it against her stomach. She looked at him with a confused pout for a moment, relaxing when she saw the tender way he was treating her. “It helps,” he said with a nod. “Trust me?”

Buffy didn’t reply but left the blanket where it was, feeling a moderate amount of relief that she was able to be distracted by something so effortless.

Placing her elbow on the foot of the bed, she rested her forehead against her hand, breathing a soft sigh of contentment when she felt Spike run his hand over the top of her head.

“I’m really screwing up,” she whispered in a moment of clarity.

Spike stayed quiet for a moment. “Could be worse,” he said quietly. “You have a roof over your head. Little sis is asleep down the hall. Friends who love you and… sometimes support you,” he admitted grudgingly, seeing her attempt to smile at the tone of his voice. “You need to give yourself a break. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Buffy looked up at him with a sad expression that nearly broke his heart. “The nice people at the phone company… seem to think it's not hard enough.”

Spike stared at her for a long moment, resting his elbows on his knees. He tried to get over the fact that she was talking to him as if he was one of her friends or her Watcher and not a soulless vampire. “I can help with that,” he said quietly, looking away when she narrowed her eyes slightly.

“I-”

“And not for anything,” he interrupted, glancing down at her, his hands clasped tightly together as his nerves took over. “I don’t… There’s no ulterior motive,” he said, knowing that would be her next statement. “Just want to help,” he murmured, finally making eye contact with her again. “If you’ll let me.”

“Would it hurt anybody?” she asked, swallowing nervously as she waited for his answer.

“Do you really need to ask me that?” he asked, trying to keep any accusation out of his tone as he looked at her.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, looking at the floor for a moment. “But it would make me feel better if… if you’d tell me the truth.”

“No,” he said quietly, giving her an understanding smile when she looked up at him again. “Wouldn’t hurt a soul, love. I promise.”

Buffy seemed torn as her brain began to process everything. “I shouldn’t…”

“I love you,” he said quietly, whispering the words that he hadn’t told her since she came back, seeing her eyes widen slightly at the calm, almost casual tone of his voice. “Would never do anything to hurt you. I just want you and the Nibblet to stay safe.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

Spike couldn’t help the chuckle as he replied, “Just say yes… make me the happiest man on earth.”

Buffy giggled in spite of herself, remembering a time that felt so long ago when he said those same words to her – of course, that had been in a much different context. “Oh, Spike,” she said, putting as much enthusiasm behind her words as her fragile stomach would allow. “Of course it’s yes!”

Both laughed for a moment until Buffy’s energy seemed to fade away, her head slowly drooping until her forehead was resting against Spike’s jean-clad thigh.

“Come on, love,” he whispered, reaching down and picking her up as if she didn’t weigh anything. “Time for bed.”

Buffy didn’t bother to protest as he helped her into bed, taking off her shoes and tucking the comforter around her. She thought about the attentive way he was caring for her, showing her a side of himself that she’d never been privileged to see.

So lost in thought, she almost missed him walking toward the door, calling his name to get him to turn and face her. “Will you stay?” she asked quietly, looking over at him through tired eyes.

Spike gave her the soft smile that was reserved only for her as he slowly nodded. “I can do that,” he said, obviously pleased that she’d asked. “I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

Buffy watched as he turned and walked toward the door. “Spike?” she called out again in a meek voice, relaxing when he turned around. “Thank you,” she said, her voice holding genuine gratitude. “Not just for… I just wanted to thank you… for everything.”

“I’m here for you, Buffy,” he said with a smile.

“I know that,” she said, closing her eyes in exhaustion. “I just… wanted to tell you… that… this… makes me feel safe. Knowing you're always gonna be here…”

Her words trailed off, leaving Spike to look down at her with a mixture of affection and love in his gaze as her breathing evened out. Bending low to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, he tenderly brushed the hair away from her face, looking down at her for a long moment. “I don’t leave the people I love, Goldilocks,” he whispered, turning and walking out of the room, never seeing the smile she gave him before falling into a peaceful sleep.



~The End~





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