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When Buffy woke up the next day, she was alone.

She sat up and looked around the room, looking for any sign of where Spike might be. She walked down the stairs listening for him, and was surprised to find that Giles and Jenny were gone as well.

She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel from the bag, not even bothering to toast it before wolfing it down. She made her way back to her room and grabbed clothes to change into after a shower. She couldn't get her mind off Spike, the way he was acting, begging her not to leave him, and then disappearing the next morning. Instead of angering her, it simply made her want to figure him out more. She hardly knew anything about him, beside the fact he was gorgeous.

Something had happened to him, something horrible, and she just didn't understand. Sure, she held a grudge against her father for the things he did to her mother, but he was still her father. And as much as she didn't want to, she loved him. But the way Spike looked at Giles, was something she couldn't even begin to comprehend. Raw pain and anguish, that was swallowed by a seething anger. She had tried to ask Jenny again what happened to his mother, but Giles had walked in and had put an end to it.

Buffy also knew that Giles was affected by it as well. But the look that Giles gave was filled with a sense of failure, and self loathing. She had watched him stare longingly at Spike before, and had saw tears well up in his eyes more than once.

She knew that he loved Jenny, but it seemed to be restricted, like he was afraid to give her reign to his feelings. And even though a part of him is distant, the other clings to her, follows her around and watches her every move.

Buffy's mind was so lost in the Giles family, that when her mind cleared she was standing in front of the sink, with her tooth brush in her mouth.

When she finished her morning routine, she headed toward the couch, and plopped down and began channel surfing. Nothing was on so she left the channel on a morning talk show, and let her mind wonder to her drunken, bleached housemate. She was so wrapped up in thoughts about him that when he laid a hand on her shoulder, she screamed bloody murder and fell off of the couch.

Spike stood there mouth agape, arm still extended, looking at the panting blonde at his feet. "I'm sorry. I thought you heard me come in."

Buffy excepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet, one hand still cluthing her chest. "No, it's okay, I just- God." She fell back on the couch and let out a small laugh, trying to calm down. Spike took a seat next to her and just stared at her. Her face was red and her hair was wild from where she ran a shaking hand through it, but she still looked glorious. He tore his eyes away and looked at the tv. "So, what are we watching, pet?"

"Nothing. Nothing is on, so I just left it here." She said looking at the people laughing and chatting, while drinking coffee.

"Well, it's bloody stupid. Hand me the remote." He reached his hand toward her, and Buffy handed it over with a small chuckle. He kept flipping channels until he came to a soccer game, and then threw the remote on the table. "Well, it's not Manchester United, but it's football." He looked at her, and was surprised to see her staring back at him.

"You don't look like a sports fan." She was delighted to see dimples indent his cheeks when he smiled and shook his head.

"Yeah, well looks can be decieving, love." He said the last part with a playful sneer, which made her giggle.

She looked back at Spike, who was avidly watching the television, and thought back to last night. This Spike was definitely not the same one who clung to her for dear life, while emptying his soul with tears. This Spike was confident and cocky, where last night he was frightened and vulnerable.They sat there distractedly watching the tv, trying not to stare at each other, when Buffy finally worked up the nerve to ask him about the night before.

"Spike?" His head swiveled toward her but his eyes never left the game.

"Yeah, pet?"

Buffy began picking at the hem of her shorts, "What happened last night?" Spike's eyes snapped to her face then, and she could see the embarassment in them, before he looked back at the tv.

He cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah, about that. I'm, uh, I'm sorry. Won't happen again." She could tell she was losing him when he started fidgeting and looking around the room.

"Is there something you need to talk about? Something to get off your mind? Because, I kno-" Buffy's speech was cut short when hard blue eyes turned on her.

"No." He looked in her eyes as he spoke the lone word, and Buffy knew why Giles and Jenny left him alone. It sent shivers down her spine, and goosebumps appeared on her arms. But there was something there, something buried behind the anger that belied his words.

"Spike, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes people need to talk, get things out in the open, before it drives them crazy."

"Yeah, like how you talk about it? I haven't seen you go anywhere, or talk to anyone since you got here!" He looked at her as he said this, his voice rising with every word.

Buffy jumped to her feet, staring down at him, "And how would you know what I've done? I haven't seen you three times in the last two months!" She was panting now and her face was flushed, anger radiating of her shaking body.

Spike jumped to his feet, causing her to step back as he stalked toward her. "That's because I have a life. I have better things to do than sitting around, thinking about my dead mother!"

She sucked in a breath at his words. They slammed into her, breaking another piece of her heart she couldn't afford to lose. Tears streamed down her face, wetting the look of disgust that crossed it.

His eyes melted at her tears, and he reached a hand toward her. "Pet, I'm sorr-"

She stepped back away from his hand, "You son of a bitch. You know what I'm going through." His eyes narrowed as she said this, and turned cold. "Yeah, Spike. I know about your mother."

His whole body was bristled, and his eyes were cold and narrowed, but she could see tears welling up. Before she even knew he had moved, he grabbed her arms and pulled her an inch from his face.

His voice was low and strained from trying to hold his tears, but it was deadly.

"You don't know anything."

With that he pushed her away, turned, stomped to the door, and slammed it so hard that pictures fell from the wall.





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