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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for all the terrific reviews and comments, you guys are terrific

This chapter seems to be a filler to move into the future...the couple learns to live together without over whelming hatred.... and are moving forward
Chapter 10
Buffy woke up enclosed in a familiar cocoon of warmth. The past two weeks seemed to fly by. Her ribs didn’t hurt too much unless she moved too fast. She could sleep on her side, instead of on her back, a big plus, Buffy thought. Every night she would fall asleep with her head resting on Spike’s stomach, listening to him read to her about the devious and sometimes dubious adventures of Edmond Dantes just to wake up wrapped up in his arms. He only read a couple chapters a night, drawing out the story, but she didn’t care. It felt so natural to listen to him read. That realization made Buffy reel. She hopped up from the bed and staggered out into the living room as fast as she could. It felt natural, with Spike? That wasn’t right. She shouldn’t feel so comfortable with him, shouldn’t trust him. She regretted it the last time. But the fact remained that she did feel comfortable with him and somewhere, very deep down, she trusted him and it scared her.



Spike walked into the living room, looking for Buffy. He was enjoying holding her warm pliant body next to his when he felt her stiffen and crawl out of the bed. She practically ran out of the room, making Spike wonder what was wrong. He gave her a minute or two alone and decided to head out after her.



She was standing next to the empty mantle; the owner of the painting came yesterday to pick up the piece. Her eyes were wide and her skin pale as he watched her pace. He wondered what had her that agitated but decided to let her walk out her energy. The doctor still had not given her his consent to skate or weight train and he found she had an extraordinary amount of energy. The second day after her attack, she refused to lie in bed like how he wanted her. It seemed to Spike that every time he would turn his back, she would sneak into her workroom. When he came to check on her, she was missing from the bed and he would find her standing stiffly in front of a canvas, moving the brush delicately across it. Each time, he would get her back in bed, only to have her sneak down the hall again.



A couple days ago, Spike escorted Buffy to the facility that held Joyce. Normally, Buffy would walk or grab a cab if she had a painting with her, but Spike refused to let Buffy go alone. Buffy lead the way into the facility. Spike didn’t know what to expect. On one hand this woman was Buffy’s mother, someone she respected and loved dearly. On the other hand, she married the weasel Hank and stayed with him all those years. Buffy rounded a corner and entered a room, Spike following her. In the center of the room was a single bed with a frail woman sitting up, drinking hot chocolate. She looked over at her visitors and smiled. The resemblance was amazing. Despite the difference in age and hair color, no one would ever mistake the relationship between them. Buffy, without hesitation, went over to hug the diminutive woman. Her short, dark ash blond hair hung limply, curling at the ends, it contrasted with the long, straight, light blond Buffy sported. The premature wrinkles around Joyce’s face stretched as she smiled at her daughter. “Buffy, I’m so glad you came.”



Buffy smoothed down an errant hair on Joyce’s head. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?” Buffy sat down next to her mother, holding on her hand. Buffy was thankful Joyce had not picked up on the fading bruises on Buffy’s face or her stiff gait.



“Of course, dear. Who do we have here?” Joyce’s soft eyes landed onto Spike’s white head.



“My name is William, Ms. Summers.” Spike came slowly to the bed, on the same side as Buffy. He took Joyce’s hand and kissed the thin skin.



Joyce in turn smiled brilliantly, “Call me Joyce, please.” Spike nodded and rested his hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Are you a friend of Buffy’s?”



“Yes, Ma’am.” Spike squeezed Buffy’s shoulder, afraid she would ruin the agreement with her mother.



“Oh, don’t ma’am me, mister.” Joyce gently scolded Spike. “Would you two like a cup of Cocoa? Or tea?”



“None for me, Mom. William?” Buffy looked at Spike for the first time since the entered the room. He saw trepidation in her eyes.



“Do you think they have some of those little marshmallows?”



Joyce’s kind eyes crinkled up as she smiled. “I believe they do.” After Joyce called the cafeteria to ask that they bring another cup of cocoa with marshmallows, Spike sat down next to Buffy, holding her hand. The gesture was not lost on Joyce and she gave Spike a knowing wink. Spike got along very well with Joyce, his seemingly natural charm wooed Buffy’s mother, having her insist he come back and see her again.



Spike chauffeured Buffy to the gallery whenever she wanted to go. He was too afraid to go to work the past week, knowing Buffy would try to walk wherever she wanted to go if he wasn’t there. Buffy found it incredibly funny how Spike would jump at her every whim, enjoying the faux relationship. Every once in while Buffy would remember the first night and the anger bubbled within her. A few times Spike had caught her in the memory and ended up with his feelings on the floor, totally eviscerated by Buffy’s callous words, but knowing he deserved them.



Their life started to calm down into a routine. Spike started going to work in the afternoons, spending the mornings cuddling with Buffy, watching her paint, and making sure she was safe at the gallery. He started to bring work home to toil on at night while Buffy painted or did her rehabilitation exercises. To Buffy’s dismay, Spike would pick her up at six from the gallery. The one time she walked home with Dawn before he came to pick her up, he virtually ripped her a new ass. She was amazed at how angry Spike was, even while they ate dinner with Dawn. Dawn was astonished at the show of concern Spike displayed, even though he was volleying from yelling to sulking. He finally got over it when Buffy promised not to walk home again and wait for him. She would have promised anything to get rid of the sulky Spike. Yelling and anger she could handle, but his pout was driving her crazy.



Spike took the whole day off on Thursdays to go see Joyce with Buffy. They were getting along wonderfully, even when Spike would visit Joyce without Buffy. He found that even in her weakened mental state, she was a kind woman. Even on her bad days, Spike would drink a cup of cocoa or two while he sat and held her small hand.



Life progressed for Buffy. She finally got permission to skate again. She found that her injuries and subsequent break from the ice made it a bit harder to do her jumps. She worked heavily on the weights, trying to make her legs and abdomen even stronger than before. She trained hard, starting practice at six in the morning, a fact that Spike had tried to talk her out of.



Days turned into weeks as the couple became more comfortable with each other and their new lives. Buffy never questioned Spike about Hank and what was happening on that end, but she did find out from her mother that Hank had retired from the company and now was living a life of leisure.





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