Author's Chapter Notes:
I know I JUST hit the 2 week mark, sorry guys! But here's chapter 17, i hope you all enjoy! Thanks so much for reading and the reviews! Next chappie will be up in 2 weeks (at the latest).

also, if there are any obvious mistakes in this i apologize. I was very tired while posting and final-editing.
Spike's mind wandered quietly, searchingly. His thoughts carried a sadness with them, and as he was trying to flog off the gloomy feelings, he allowed his thoughts to be weaved around the girl he'd left sleeping sound.

He missed her.

It had only been ten minutes, the sun was rising, and instead of running his arse home to prevent ashy-Spike, he was simply walking and thinking.

Remembering, really. About his first time seeing Buffy, at the store in town. That sadness in her eyes that never quite quit, the smile that shone brighter than a beacon. Tripping her at the library (not completely on accident), having glaring contests with her and then friendly hellos at different intervals. Reading, knowing she was always close, remembering when that git had come in and hit on her right in front of him. Their recent fight, learning her name-

Spike paused, mentally shaking himself. *Elizabeth.*

Buffy had first introduced herself as 'Elizabeth' to that bloke who'd returned her wallet.

Well, damn.

How could he have forgotten hearing that name? It sure as hell was a lot more normal than 'Buffy.'

But maybe that was why he'd forgotten it.

He continued walking. Elizabeth was a beautiful name, but... regular; not as unique as Buffy actually was as a person. She clearly hadn't enjoyed that wanker's advances, the one who'd called her by her proper name so long ago. And Spike now knew that giving the name to anyone was rather unimportant to her.

Perhaps it was how she kept a distance from people. And maybe, it was also a part of the reason why Spike had drawn the conclusion that it was SHE who Blake was talking about at the diner. He'd subconsciously remembered the title 'Elizabeth.'

Yet, 'Buffy' was the one she kept mostly to herself.

Spike grinned, distracted as he stumbled over a rock. He felt like a halfwit teenager with a crush. She'd told HIM her favored name, the very first time they'd actually had a conversation.

Suddenly, the vampire's forlorn thoughts were slipping away. He refused to dwell on any deeper imbedded feelings. He refused to worry at all, for right now, he was happy. It wasn't often he could let himself soak that emotion up.

So, Spike sped home to avoid the sun, with a smile gracing his smirking lips.

><

She woke up alone.

Now, as familiar as she was with waking up to a bed... with just HER in it, a missing Spike was still disconcerting.

Partially because it was so unwelcomed. She knew he'd planned on leaving before sunrise, and while it was an intelligent decision considering Grams could walk in and see him (Buffy so didn't want to have to explain that), the girl, though well rested, felt lonely for his presence.

With a subconscious pout, yet determined not to start her day off with a despondent mind, Buffy slipped out of bed and stretched. The room was quiet, looking at the clock on her nightstand she saw that it was ten o'clock. The sun shone brightly from the still open window. A breeze so gentle it felt wielded by butterfly wings drifted through to caress her shoulders.

Shivering, and deciding to brush the sweaters off of her teeth, Buffy headed to the bathroom.

She ran into Grams.

"Mornin' dear."

The girl halted, and scowled, staring into her grandmother's eyes with an unasked question on her lips.

She held up a finger to tell Grams to hold on, and went back into her room. Picking up the clock, Buffy returned to Anne's side with it and pointed at the hour hand.

"It's ten in the morning."

The old woman nodded, raising a thin eyebrow at her granddaughter. "I'm aware of that."

Buffy shook her head and rubbed her tired eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, sugar, I live here." She folded the washcloth she'd just used to dry her hands, frowning slightly over her shoulder. "Or have you forgotten?"

"You're never home in the mornings."

"Ain't true," Anne declared, hands now on hips. "I'm home often enough in the mornin', s'just that I haven't been lately."

Buffy blinked, and then shrugged. She set the little clock down on the bathroom counter and grabbed her toothbrush from its cup. She retrieved the toothpaste as well and said, "Do you remember me coming into your room last night to say goodnight?"

She saw Grams nod in the mirror.

"You were half asleep, so I wasn't sure," Buffy said.

A warm smile lit Anne's countenance. "I'm always pretty aware of things, darlin. Not much gets passed me."

Buffy spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and blushed at the look she got from her grandma. Did she know something? Had she heard Spike come in last night? Buffy hoped not.

She didn't want to think about it. Shoving both her anxieties and her toothbrush aside, she rinsed.

"So what's on your agenda for today?" Grams asked.

Buffy ran a hand through her bed head, deciding a shower would be the first thing on her to-do list. Then... "I'll have work later tonight."

Grams almost walked into the doorframe, as she had been about to go through it when Buffy dropped that tidbit of information. "You'll what now?"

Buffy smiled, trying and failing to not let self-consciousness show. "I got a job yesterday at Leonard's Place." She shrugged tightly. "He hired me on the spot, it's why I got home so late." *Along with one other reason,* Buffy silently added. Spike was distracting- to say the least -when it came to his mouth.

Grams blinked a few times, the shock evident. "You do know that I didn't mean you had to get a job immediately after I mentioned it, right darlin? Because I'll go and talk to Leo if-"

Buffy cut her off. "No, Grams. It's okay. I- I know that you didn't mean to..." She waved her hands vaguely. "It's okay. This is... good for me. Leonard's nice and-"

"He better be," Anne declared, the seriousness in her tone halting Buffy's words. "If he isn't he'll have ta deal with me, an believe it when I say he doesn't want that."

She held back a grin. Ah Grams, always protective. Buffy had no doubt that yes, Leonard would not want to deal with a pissed off Anne Summers. "Relax," she said. "He's very nice, and so is the waitress who trained me. Harriet? Do you know her?"

Anne squinted for a moment in thought, then nodded. "Oh yeah, she's a sweetheart, that one."

Buffy had to agree. "Yup. And thanks to her, I've already got a handle on waitressing again..." She chewed her bottom lip. "I think. The people are..." she searched for the right word, "chatty. But kind, and patient. I'm okay over there."

Grams eyed her for a minute, and Buffy could see the wheels turning in her head. Trying to gauge feelings, wondering if she'd need to threaten anyone to make sure her granddaughter was treated well at the diner, in town, everywhere. Then, with a little smile, "Alright," she said, "So long as you're comfortable."

Buffy bit her tongue to prevent the full truth of her feelings, about her dislike for the average talky customer, from spilling out. Instead, she nodded, and then answered in the affirmative to Grams' offer of eggs and bacon. She walked back into her room to retrieve her work blouse, scrunching her nose at the wrinkled state it was in. She never took it out of her bag last night, unfortunately.

Knowing she needed to wash it and- Oh good, the tag said dryer safe -then planning on eating breakfast before catching a shower, Buffy headed to the kitchen.

It was nice to not be so exhausted. She felt rather refreshed actually. She might have woken up to bad dreams, but only once, and then Spike was there and...

It was baffling, she thought, as she mechanically measured out detergent to start a load of laundry in the back porch off the kitchen. Her actions were focused but absentminded. Her mind trained thoroughly on what Spike had done for her; she'd never met someone like him.

He'd not only come back to check on her, but instead of waking up on the cold floor after the nightmare, she had come back to herself in his arms. He'd actually climbed through her window to hold her, and then he'd stayed.

Buffy shook her head, puzzlement on her face as she marveled over the man's actions. She shut the lid on the washer and pressed a couple of buttons before resting her hands on the flat surface. Her mind was in weird swirling patterns, thoughts mixed in with emotions. Feelings blooming and growing, a nagging ache in her heart when she tried to ignore them.

Spike was just getting so close, but Buffy didn't have it in her to shut him out anymore. She probably hadn't since their kind-of-a-date with the kissage in the attic. She wouldn't even try at this point to separate from him. Not only wouldn't he let her, but she craved his company. And she loved and wanted the comfort she felt when she was around him.

Thinking about it now, and letting loose a breath of shock with the revelation, she didn't believe she'd ever slept as soundly as she had last night. Especially not since the fire. She'd been way too tired to think much about how Spike made her feel last night; the safety and security, the rightness about it. The warmth. She wanted him to hold her again, because as much as he'd seen her vulnerability last night- something Buffy still couldn't quite think about without inwardly grimacing -he'd also given her strength.

Being the least bit dependent on anything had always made her feel like she was in an open void, exposed to danger. But Spike... He showed her it was okay. A little danger could leave you with gifts wrapped in black leather.

Buffy sighed after a shudder went through her. Her thoughts were cycling, and treading on uncomfortable ground. It was time to take a break from Spike-reflection for awhile.

Or at least try.

><

He was dreaming. Sunshine colored hair, her face, her touch. Buffy's laughter filtered through his ears, and Spike was smiling.

Holding onto her, the imprint of her body pressed up against him, while his blood felt like it was running. His heart felt like it beat.

She ran a hand gently through his hair, smiling in a way that made his useless breath catch. He could only see her face, the rest of her was immersed in sunlight; yet Spike could tell from the fabric beneath his fingertips that she was wearing that dress. Her waist expanded with every inhale beneath his hands, Buffy's heartbeat thumped reassuringly in his ears.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers and her smile grew. She leaned upwards, nuzzling his nose with her own before meeting his lips for a kiss. Sweetness burned him. His hands glided upwards over her back, where his palms caressed smooth, warm skin.

They broke apart much too soon for his liking, but his lips eagerly went to her throat. Her blood pumped steadily beneath the surface, a liquid treasure he wanted to taste. Before he had a chance to urge his demon down, he heard her voice.

"Do it."

Spike pulled back, shock painted on his face. But when he met her warm, reassuring eyes, all doubts and questions slowly dissipated. He read in her gaze the acceptance there, the love, the trust. He nodded instead of trying to speak around the tightness in his throat. His lips feathered along her neck.

She gasped softly at the touch of his tongue, and his hold tightened. Spike pulled her flush against him, his grip becoming desperate and he told himself over and over again not to hurt her. He wanted to consume her, wanted to bind her to him forever, never let her go.

She was giving him that.

His fangs descended gratefully. The demon howled, its yearning a roar in his ears. Spike's heart shot up into his throat as he pierced her skin, and the instant before her blood met his tongue, he woke up.

Or more accurately, was woken up.

With ice water.

"Bloody hell!" He scrambled back from the wave. Ace, Rex, and Blake stood at the foot of his bed, the first holding a now half empty bucket.

The rest of that bucketful was soaking Spike's bed. And Spike.

"Morning asshole," Blake announced, his gaze very unsympathetic.

Wide blue eyes blinked, and then Spike glowered at the three of them. The remnants of his dream rippled through his focusing mind, and the beginnings of a growl started in the depths of his throat.

Claiming. Somewhere, at some point in time, he had read about the ancient act. So long ago, in fact, that it might have even been before he was turned. His subconscious had finally decided to remind him of it; and now, with water soaking his sheets and his fangs itching, Spike had a thousand questions on something he knew barely anything about. Something the demon inside him apparently- innately -knew of, all too well.

He glared even harder at his friends. "What the-"

"Fuck are we doing?" Ace interjected. "Waking you up."

Blake smiled, meanly. "You snuck in after we'd already gone to bed. And personally, none of us were too pleased that you'd decided to stay gone until morning, leaving all of US with the research."

"And the cat," Rex added.

"AND the worrying," Ace contributed, his gaze scolding. "With this Flora chick, Spike, what were you thinking staying out the entire night without telling us where you were?"

"What the hell were you doing at a human's house, anyway?"

Spike turned sharply at Rex's question. The array of proclamations had all just fallen short to that last one. "How'd you know where I was?"

"Well, after we found you on the map," Blake began, "we had to go check and make sure you weren't lying under a lead weighted net, now didn't we?"

Spike's eyes turned to slits, the blue diamond hard. His irked demon was suddenly prowling within a tiny cage. "You followed me," he growled, so softly his words could have almost been called a whisper.

He noticed Blake's eyes turn swiftly wary, his empath abilities obviously picking up on the dangerous vibes coming from the vampire in bed. Rex stood stone faced, his arms crossed over a wide chest, and Ace raised an eyebrow. "We came after you when it had been a few hours, and we saw the house you stayed at. We assumed..." Black eyes narrowed. "You stay with that diner girl, Spike?"

Ace and the other two were backing up a split second later, Spike striding forward threateningly until he'd forced them to the door. His nudity went ignored, and his eyes were flashing amber as he tried to control an unfathomable territorial impulse. His demon was on the edge of a fence, ready to pounce at friend or foe as he guarded an angel behind him.

Blake stepped forward first when they'd finally met with the wall. Staring into Spike's granite face and before the vampire could speak, he said, "Reign it in, man. We were just looking for you. Once we got there and knew you were inside, we left."

He bit back another growl and his nostrils flared. Turning abruptly, Spike headed for his chest of drawers. Wondering idly, and with aggravation, why he hadn't sensed his friends last night.

It bothered him. He should have known they were there.

He was slipping into a pair of Levis when Ace spoke up. "Look, we were worried about you, which is why we did the locater spell. If you hadn't been gone so long we would've let you be."

Spike's fists clenched, and he resisted an urge to release his fangs. "And I wouldn't have woken up to a cold shower this mornin, I take it?"

"It's four in the afternoon, and no, you wouldn't have." Rex released a breath and added, "Kinda looked like you needed it for a minute there, though, with the tent in the sheets."

Ace, throwing a scolding look at the thunderbird, went to the bathroom to empty the bucket of water in his hands. Blake glanced at Spike as he passed. "He isn't tense because of the water thing," Blake said, "But m'sure it didn't help any."

Rex, raising an eyebrow at the rigid vampire who stood toweling his hair not far away, asked, "Why exactly is he tense then, oh intelligent one?"

Blake grinned, "Do you think he's always been..." the empath rolled his shoulders in faux contemplation with a sigh, "the possessive sort, Rex?"

He sniffed. "What, you're talking about this diner girl?"

Blake bit back a chuckle when he saw Spike tense further, and knew he had honed into their conversation, was listening intently to each response and word coming from their mouths. "Precisely."

Rex squinted, and Blake caught a sudden almost playful glint enter the other man's eyes. Then challenge followed the glint with a twinkle.

Humming thoughtfully, stare trained on Spike, Rex said, "She must be pretty special, huh? Wonder if I'll be meetin her anytime soon."

Blake grinned at the prod. "Maybe you will," he responded. "It is a small town, after all."

"And we know where she lives now, too. Could pay a neighborly visit-"

Rex was on the floor and struggling beneath a fully fanged, snarling vampire a heartbeat later. He and Spike wrestled, one party fighting with simple irritation, and the demon on top ready to spill blood.

"What the hell are you idiots doing?!"

"Relax." Blake waved Ace off when he came storming back into the room, before approaching the rolling pile of limbs to extract Rex easily. He shoved Spike off as the vamp went for him again, and said, "He was only joking, Spike."

"None of you go near her, is that understood." This gruff demand/not-so-much-a-question cut through the air, and even though his friends still looked both shocked and amused over his protectiveness for a random human girl, there was respect in their eyes.

Rex, smothering a laugh, straightened and nodded with something close to a smile, while Ace reaffirmed Blake's nod with a verbal agreement; and he wasn't grinning with mirth like the empath.

Deciding his point had been made, Spike tensely walked out of his bedroom and made his way downstairs. He noticed Dylan in the living room, sitting on the couch as he worked on the computer.

"Spike?"

"What?" he snapped. His mood wasn't the prettiest.

Dylan ignored his tone and held up a ball of fur over his head. Green eyes blinked, and a meow was heard. "She keeps climbing all over my keyboard, will you please take her?"

Spike smiled oh so reluctantly as he grabbed up his little pet, and rolled his eyes when she immediately started to purr. The only one he could stand in this house was a bloody feline, what did that say about his friends anyway?

Entering the kitchen, he saw Stevo and rolled his eyes again when he noticed the annoyance on the other man's face.

"Don't look at me like that."

"You couldn't even call."

"With what, my lighter?" He put the cat on the countertop and grabbed a can of food from the overhead cabinet.

Stevo grumbled something in a language Spike was sure was of mixed dialects, and flipped a page in the book he had open.

Suddenly, the memory of what he had wanted to do for Buffy and her nightmares came back full force- along with the confusing, primitive memory of his dream. His blood started to simmer, lust and longing threatened to rear their torturous heads. But Spike decided he'd try and take care of what he knew he could at the moment; and he eyed the gypsy journal his friend was scanning through.

Averting his contemplating stare, Spike asked, "Could you make a charm?"

Stevo looked up, and raised an eyebrow at the abrupt question.

The vamp sighed as he set out the kitten chow. "One for keepin away nightmares."

The man on his left turned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned at him. "Are you having bad dreams?"

"Ain't me, it's for..." he sighed, knowing what would come after he said this, "a friend."

Stevo hummed, and replied, "For the girl you stayed out with all night?"

Spike fought off a groan, and instead slanted Stevo a look of ice. "Yes, and before you start thinkin I was ditchin you lot to-"

"Oh, I already do, but I'm guessing you're about to explain HOW you weren't out last night with a woman while we worked and argued until five thirty. Not to mention, hunting you down to make sure you weren't ash, in between."

Spike grit his teeth, closing his eyes to try and regain some semblance of patience. "I need a charm for nightmares, can you make one or not?"

"For who?"

"You bloody well know who!"

"This Elizabeth girl?" Stevo raised a brow. "Funny. Thought you didn't care much about humans, William."

Spike growled low in his throat, and then took a step forward. "Look, m'not sorry I skipped out on all a you last night, I had somethin to take care of- And no," he held up a hand to halt Stevo's interruption, "I wasn't gettin shagged. Believe it or not, I was helpin out a friend. And I need a charm, now will you soddin make one or not?"

Stevo narrowed his eyes, studying Spike and the vamp's apparent sincerity without veil. He was trying to read him, which usually, since Spike was a master at trying to hide his feelings, wasn't the easiest thing to do unless you were Blake.

Stevo finally sighed, deciding to believe the frustrating Billy Idol wannabe, and nodded. "Yeah. I can make a charm. It won't take away all dreams, just ones with negative or upsetting results to the body and mind."

Obviously. Spike knew that stopping dreaming altogether was out of the question, that sent people into insanity. But bad dreams... they were something that could be knocked out. "It won't hurt the person, you can make it so there's no side effects, right?" He still had to ask.

Stevo nodded again, going to one of the cabinets and retrieving some herbs he knew they had on hand. "It will be harmless, and fortunately, I think you have everything needed."

Inwardly, Spike let out a breath of relief. "How long will it take?"

"I can have it finished by tonight."

"Good."

He moved to the refrigerator to get a bloodbag, and Stevo asked, "What do you want it on?"

He paused, his hand on the fridge door. "Think a bracelet'll do? S'just a simple chain... s'got a stone on it."

"That will work," Stevo answered, and he started setting out some empty bowls before grabbing his journal on the other side of the counter from across the stove. He put a bookmark in place between large, thin pages, and then went searching for the spells he would need towards the beginning of the book. "So," he said, "your girl has trouble sleeping, then?"

His girl. Spike liked the sound of that. And even though he didn't exactly like having to tell Stevo about Buffy's nightmares, he couldn't deny anything at this point. He needed the charm; and even if he'd lied and said it was for him or some random stranger rather than the unknown "diner girl," He knew Stevo would have figured out the truth in a heartbeat. "Yeh. She uh... she does."

Stevo caught Spike ducking his head, and the look of discomfort on his face. "It's why you stayed out last night, isn't it?" Although a question, his voice made it clear that this guess had been more of a realized fact; and they both knew it.

A sigh but nothing else was confirmation enough for the gypsy. He went back to flipping through his journal. "You try not to let yourself feel, friend; when in reality, you feel more than a lot of humans." He moved back to the herbs and was talking again before Spike could predictably protest. "I'll have the charm finished before nightfall, and I promise it will work for her. All I need is the bracelet."

Spike left the kitchen, planning to retrieve just that.

><

Later, when the bewitching hour finally drifted through, Buffy untied her apron. She'd spent the majority of the day working, and the time before that reading at home and being with Grams. As well as trying to avoid thinking about a certain man with sapphire blue eyes and a smirk that could turn knees to jelly.

She'd almost called him to say hi, but that was before she'd decided he was busy with those friends who were staying with him. And she didn't want to cling, even if she did miss him.

So, she'd focused on being Elizabeth again, as she waited tables and took orders and filled coffee cups. It hadn't been too bad, really. The people questioned her just as much, if not more, but her tips were good. Everyone, polite if not a bit nosy, was patient if she got an order wrong, and Harriet never let that smile droop.

All in all, it wasn't a horrible day, but towards nine she'd started to get very... Her mind had wandered, drifted, gone dark; she'd had to go into the washroom just once to get a hold of herself. Maybe it was because she was tired by that time, or the numerous orders and all of the running around had taken toll on her brain, but she needed a breather.

Now, with her feet sore and the rest of her body ready to hit a mattress- or maybe the spray of a hot shower -Buffy was heading to the back to grab her things and leave.

She didn't work tomorrow, thank God. She needed a break.

Switching shirts quickly, she forced her mind not to zone out. She'd been doing pretty well other than that fallout earlier in the evening, and she didn't want to ruin it. Buffy mentally calculated little things in her head, like her route home, what songs she could listen to while walking, the lure of a bed.

Picking up her bag, she left the restaurant, saying goodnight to Harriet and Leonard on the way out.

She didn't expect to run into anyone just as she was putting in her headphones.

"Spike!

He'd hugged Buffy from behind, and now he was spinning her to face him. She'd only recognized who it was from the leather encased arms which had wrapped firmly about her waist, and now she was breathing hard and trying to calm her heart rate.

"Don't do that!"

Spike chuckled. "Serves you right, Goldilocks. You were walkin home alone." He met her slanted glittering eyes and smirked.

Buffy humphed at his strangely pleased expression, deciding he liked riling her up, and then immediately realizing what he'd just said. "Well, who am I supposed to walk home with, one of the busboys?"

She didn't know what made her say it, because honestly, why would she ever ask anyone to walk her home in this little town? But Buffy took perverse pleasure in the look that came over Spike's face once the words had left her lips.

"You're supposed to let me walk you home," he declared, his brow furrowing.

Ah, more perverse pleasure, especially at the way his hold on her waist had tightened. Buffy smiled. "Well, you weren't here," she replied.

"I'm here now," and he leaned in, claiming her lips for a kiss. His touch burned in an all too much kind of way, and her nerves buzzed. Moaning inaudibly, pressing closer to his body, Buffy dropped her bag.

Spike traced her lips with his tongue and clutched a little tighter when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He almost purred when he felt her nails in his hair, lightly scraping, twining. Her tongue peaked out to play, and he took it between his lips greedily. Sucking and teasing, tasting. He felt every inch of her against his body. A warm blanket, like living flame in his hands.

A shuddering breath escaped when she pulled back, as oxygen was needed, but Spike dove back in half a moment later. Buffy moaned and a whimper caught in her throat, her blood rushing.

He was losing control, carnal urges rising like waves as each second passed. He pulled her closer, higher. He wanted to be inside, he wanted to feel her beneath him. Joined and slick, meeting, their bodies sliding against and into each other. The dame was his, and he wanted to have her. Wanted to show her, touch her, take her.

Instead, Spike pulled back, gasping for unneeded air though it felt anything but. She just made him... Fuck, she made him dizzy. Like a flickering candle flame in the wind. She sent him whirling.

Spike took her hand. "You'll have to give me your work schedule," he murmured.

"Why?" Buffy swallowed as she tried to gather her wits. She broke eye contact with him and took a shaky breath, then met those beautiful pools of blue again when he answered her.

"So I can walk you home at night." Spike smirked a little, and started doing just that. He lead her away from Leonard's Place.

He'd already decided to always walk her home after sunset, and he wasn't budging on that. Of course, he might have to follow her without her knowing sometimes, or call her ahead of time just to find out where she was. He figured Buffy wouldn't be working every night, and he needed to be sure no matter where she was in town, that if it was dark, she wasn't alone.

He'd taken the time to wait and see if Flora was anywhere in sight before he'd joined her just now, and he'd be keeping his senses open to make sure the she-vamp wasn't poking her nose around at all. Once she got brave again, Flora would come back, and possibly with backup. The very last thing he needed was for Buffy to be caught in the middle.

Or God forbid, be used to hurt him.

She looked up when Spike tightened his grip around her fingers, his metal rings warming from the heat of her hand. They'd been walking in silence for a little under five minutes, and it was comfortable, so Buffy didn't break it. It was still comfortable, but she sensed some unease from him now. "You okay?"

He met her eyes and the emotions there startled her. He looked... wholly worried, but then it was gone. Spike masked whatever was there so quickly, that now she wasn't even sure she'd seen it at all.

He pulled her closer as they walked and said, "Everything's fine, lamb." Glancing at her, gaze focusing on her throat, he asked, "Um... ya like jewelry, right?"

Buffy glimpsed down at her locket. Bittersweet memories fought to enter her mind, but instead, she focused on the nice singular one of her mom. Her laughter, her hugs...

Buffy sighed through the nose as a soft smile relaxed her mouth, and she turned back to Spike. "Not particularly, but sorta, yeah."

He cleared his throat, then, awkwardly, reached into one of his duster's pockets. "I've got somethin for you."

Buffy fought back what she was sure would be a very, very wide grin. She'd never seen him look all boyish and nervous, but suddenly, the swaggering, leather wearing Brit with the bleach job was acting like a young teenager on his first date. Buffy could barely keep her "Awe" from coming out.

And then, a gasp she could not contain, was heard in the thin autumn air. He showed her a small silver bracelet. Its chain shiny in the light of a streetlamp, and a beautiful amber stone inlaid in a silver oval with tiny ornate designs. The amber was orange and filled with swirls of brown and gold throughout; the little gem gleamed.

And he was holding it out to her.

"Spike... W-What-"

He cut her off, and oh lord she actually thought she saw a blush. "It's for nightmares," he explained.

She blinked, wide-eyed, up at him. "What?"

He visibly tensed even more than he already was. "One a my friends, he um... He's a gypsy."

Buffy frowned at that. "A gypsy."

Spike shifted, not meeting her eyes. "S'what I just said, ain't it?"

"As in the crystal ball, palm reading sort of gypsy?"

He bit back a smirk and said, "Sort of."

"Okay..." Buffy started walking again, having stopped before when he'd pulled the bracelet out. She eyed it questioningly and gave Spike a dubious look. "And he... did something to this bracelet?"

Spike nodded. "Like I said, it'll keep your nightmares away."

Buffy idly wondered if Spike was just a tad on the loony side. "Uh, no offense Spike, but I'm not really into superstition." She tried to wave him off nonchalantly and continue the walk home.

He grasped her arm and made her stop to face him, the look in his eyes wasn't crazed or pleading, but patient and determined. "Well, I am. And believe it or not Buffy, if you wear the bracelet when you sleep, you'll actually be able to get some bloody rest."

She scoffed a laugh. "What, is it like spelled or something?"

He shrugged, avoiding eye contact again. "Well, yeah."

She halted her thoughts, frowning hard at Spike and his... weirdness. He looked sheepish and awkward, and was acting like he was completely and one hundred percent serious on this bracelet issue. Buffy's brow puckered and rose. "Spike, look this is really... nice, but I don't think it'll work."

He took her arm again. She let him slip the bracelet onto her wrist, and couldn't help but notice how pretty it looked on. She sighed. As much as she thought he was being strangely protective in a completely ridiculous sort of way, the look in his eyes...

He held her hand, squeezing it. "Just try it, and if it doesn't work, then you don' have ta wear it anymore."

Buffy frowned harder still. This was just majorly bizarre.

Yet there was something...

She looked back down at the amber stone.

It couldn't hurt, she supposed. Though, she was a little wigged out by what Spike's other friends were like if one was supposed to be a... gypsy.

Eyeing the bracelet, Buffy took in its beauty again, and she smiled a little. "It is gorgeous," she claimed, and with a sigh, folded. "Alright, I'll try it." She pointed at him. "But don't get disappointed when it doesn't work."

The bright smile that followed her announcement was totally worth wearing a hundred be-spelled bracelets.

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Buffy had just finished getting ready for bed, having snacked on some cold chicken from the fridge while talking with Grams for a few minutes before deciding to hit the hay. Spike had walked her home and seen her safely inside, after, of course, a few more steamy kisses.

She shuddered. Just thinking about it got her blood going.

Which wasn't the best idea if she wanted to try and get some rest. Buffy eyed the bed. Then she eyed her wrist.

This bracelet was... well, she hadn't been lying when she'd told him it was beautiful. But a part of Buffy thought it might be prettier if Spike had given it to her out of a desire to present her with a gift, just because; rather than some nutty belief that a charmed piece of jewelry would keep nightmares away.

She could tell he wasn't pulling her leg, he meant what he'd said. Spike truly thought that she would sleep peacefully now, and as nice as the thought was- that a little bracelet could keep away all crappy subconscious tortures -it was also fanciful, unrealistic, wishful thinking. Ridiculous.

Buffy climbed into bed. If only he'd given it to her because he simply thought she would like it. Was it so bad that she kind of wanted to be thought of as a girl instead of a charity case?

Well, she supposed that wasn't fair. If Spike honestly thought this "magic bracelet" would help her, then he was being very kind, and thoughtful. He didn't want her to be in pain, and if the idea wasn't so ludicrous to her, Buffy could see herself being immensely grateful for the gift instead of questioning its relativity to... God, to what? She didn't even know why it bothered her!

"Ugh, get a grip, Buffy," she told herself, and hit her pillow a couple of times before resting her head. She took a deep breath and released it, and she stared down at the little amber stone dangling from her wrist again. The swirls and oranges and golds were easy to follow, the stone so clear and pretty that she could trace the intricacies with her eyes in only the moonlight.

She could let her mind drift, to that place where she spent time when she read mystical books, magical stories with fairies or vampires, things she ordinarily would not believe in but let herself for a little while because she entered those worlds when she read about them. If she allowed her tired mind to go there, to her own fanciful place and let an imagination many people forgot they even had, take over, she could almost believe this bracelet really was magic.

Buffy closed her heavy lids, only to lift them again at the sound of wind swishing through the tall grasses near her window. She'd left it open, and this time it wasn't just to get fresh air.

She wondered if Spike might come by. She wanted that window open for him if he did. He might not enter, but he could if she flipped off the bed again. And even though Buffy felt a little childish for wishing he could keep her company, and be there to rescue her from her own mind if the need arose, all she had to do was remember what it felt like when he was there lying next to her, and she felt nothing but both lonely and comforted at the same time. There was no shame in wanting him close, even for her.

Staring again at the bracelet, Buffy fiddled with it for a moment before her fatigue finally took over, and she drifted into sleep.

A heavy, dreamless sleep.


Chapter End Notes:
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