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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Amanda for her beta-skills, and thank you SO MUCH for the supportive comments. Really a great incentive to keep on writing.

WARNING: The next chapter is going to be where the NC-17 stuff starts coming in. Just so you know!
Buffy walked inside, and Spike followed her. He shrugged out of his leather duster and hung it over the banister of the stairs before walking into the kitchen and plopping down at the island, putting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Why, Buffy? Why the fuck did she have to go and do that to me?” Spike groaned while Buffy dug around in the pantry for something.

She looked back at him, over her shoulder. He looked so… broken. Like he would wither away into dust at any moment. ‘I know we’ve got some instant hot chocolate here somewhere…’ she thought to herself.

“AHA!” Buffy said loudly, abruptly standing up and banging her head on the underside of the top shelf of the pantry. “Owowowowow,” she sang, dancing around the kitchen with one hand on her head and the other triumphantly holding the box of Swiss Miss Instant Hot Chocolate, complete with mini marshmallows.

Spike watched this interesting debacle with wide eyes, and couldn’t help the smirk that edged up the corners of his lips. It was when Buffy banged the box down on the counter and mumbled something about ‘evil pantries that hide hot chocolate and then try to kill you when you finally find it’ that Spike really couldn’t help the loud laugh that erupted from his chest. He was so strung out on emotion after Dru ended it because ‘she didn’t think she wanted to be tied down for all of high school’ and ‘she didn’t want to hold Spike back from meeting other people’, that pretty much anything was likely to get an overblown reaction from him.

It was suddenly remembering why he was at Buffy’s house, letting her make him some much needed hot cocoa, that had Spike banging his head against the island, tears rolling down his perfect face.

He looked up at Buffy, who had finished her cocoa preparation and had set him a steaming mug next to his left elbow, and whispered in a defeated voice, “I don’t think I can live without her Buffy. I just don’t think I can.”

Buffy lowered her head so that her chin rested on the counter and her eyes were level with his. “Don’t say that Spike. Please don’t say that. You know it’s not true. You know that you’re stronger than that, just like I know it. You’re fourteen. You’re only a freshman in high school! I know it hurts now, but you’ll get through it. I know you will.”

Spike just looked at Buffy as though she was crazy. Buffy sighed and grabbed her hot chocolate in one hand and Spike’s arm in the other. “Get your cocoa,” she ordered him before dragging him into the living room and sinking down onto the couch, pulling him down with her.

She waited for Spike to get comfortable, with his knees bent and spread wide in a totally relaxed way, and his cocoa in his right hand, the base of the mug resting on the arm of the couch. Then she set down her own mug, grabbed the TV remote, and settled down next to Spike, resting her petite blonde head on his firm stomach and curling her feet onto the couch with her.

Spike watched her wide-eyed for a moment, unsure of what in the world was in Buffy’s head. (Which, incidentally, was the mantra ‘Please don’t push me away, please don’t push me away…’) Finally, he let his left hand drift down to rest on her stomach, and Buffy nearly sighed in relief that he hadn’t freaked out on her. She poked a button on the remote and found a comedy show that would hopefully help cheer Spike up.

The two watched TV for a while before Spike finally whispered, “I have to go home soon, pet.”

Buffy rolled over onto her back, and her head slid from Spike’s stomach to his lap. “No you don’t,” she said softly, “Call your dad. Tell him you’re spending the night here. You’ve done it before.”

“Why?” Spike asked simply.

“Because I’m afraid of what’ll happen if you’re alone.”

Both were quiet for a moment.

Spike sighed deeply. “I should at least go and get some clothes from home to wear to school tomorrow, pet. Don’t rightly want to go in the same clothes, yeah?”

Buffy nodded absently. “But I’m going with you. And you might as well go ahead and pack for the whole week.”

“The whole week, luv?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you out of my sight, mister.”

Spike smirked at her, his cheeks sucking in and causing his gorgeous cheekbones to become even more pronounced. “Just like old times then, eh, kitten?”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah. Just like old times.”

*FLASHBACK* (Personal note: I love flashbacks!)
Buffy and Will sat in Buffy’s room, on the floor, surrounded by photographs of the two of them together. They were in eighth grade now, and working on a project for their literature class. Mrs. Childs had assigned that each person in the class pair up, choose a topic, and create a scrapbook on that topic. Buffy and William (who now preferred to be called ‘Will’ for short) had, of course, paired up together to document their now two-year-old friendship. Will had spent the night at Buffy’s to work on school projects several times before, but this time was different. He was spending the entire week at her house for this endeavor, to make sure that it was the most amazing project ever.

Will picked up a picture of Buffy and himself from seventh grade. They had their arms slung around each other and were standing in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyworld, in Florida. Both of their families had flown there for summer vacation that year, and they had spent a week there visiting the different parks.

Will showed the picture to Buffy and she smiled. “Think we should put this one in there, luv?”

“Yup!” Buffy said. She pointed at a page reserved for vacation pictures. “Right there.”

Will carefully painted the back of the photo with glue and handed it to Buffy, who stuck it into place, the tip of her tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration. Buffy finished placing the photograph and turned to Will, a huge smile on her face.

“Remember that Aerosmith ride? God, how many times did we ride that thing?”

“Exactly? I think it was forty-three times total.” Will smirked. “But as I recall, it was you that kept wanting to ride it again, and then you’d go and sing and dance all through that damned line…”

“Hey!” Buffy exclaimed. “You like them too. Remember that concert we went to with my mom and your dad a few months ago? You’re the one who fought our way to the front of the crowd.”

Will blushed. “Yeah, ok, they’re good. Do we have any pictures from that concert?”

“Yeah, I think so. Maybe in this box over here…”
*END FLASHBACK*

Buffy and Spike didn’t get back to Buffy’s until about nine-thirty that night. Both were exhausted- Spike from an emotionally trying day at school, and Buffy from helping Spike carry his clothes down the street.

“You want me to set up the couch so you can go on to bed, luv? You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Spike offered.

Buffy looked at him for a moment. “No,” she finally said. “Come sleep in my room, like you used to. I did say I wasn’t letting you out of my sight.”

Spike shrugged and followed her up the stairs.

Spike stripped down to his boxers in the bathroom while Buffy changed into a crème silk camisole and green and crème plaid flannel pants. She was pulling her golden hair back into a ponytail when Spike walked in. She turned and smiled at him before going to the bed and crawling under the blankets, holding them open for him to follow. He smirked and climbed in next to her.

Spike soon decided he would rather be spooned up against Buffy’s back, not the other way around, so he rolled over to face her.

“Luv?” he said softly.

“Mmm?”

“Let’s swap places. I need to hold you.”

“Ok,” Buffy mumbled sleepily.

Spike carefully lifted himself over Buffy’s body, and for just a bare moment, he was on top of her, looking down at this tired little angel, his best friend. He smirked at how cute she looked beneath him before completing his move and settling in behind her, pulling her back snugly against his bare chest.

Buffy yawned and nudged her body back into his embrace. “Night,” she mumbled.

“Goodnight, sweetness.”

Just before he felt Buffy’s body relax into a deep slumber, he swore he heard her say in a near-inaudible voice, “I love you, Will.”

Spike contemplated this for a moment before finally deciding, ‘Nah, she’s just too tired to know what she’s saying. We’re just friends, is all.’ Then he, too, fell into a deep sleep.





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