AUTHOR'S NOTES: I won't even apologize this time, I realize how late I am and yes it's bad of me. But lots of business in RL right now, and hey! Happy New Year to everyone! This chapter is long, to make up for its delay. I'm sorry about any mistakes in here, I edit each chapter before posting but I was tired while doing this one, I still hope you enjoy!

P.S. Thanks for reviews and for reading! *huggles*
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Buffy was dreaming of a memory. Reliving the night which was only now coming to its true end. She lay restless, but sound asleep, in her bed. Her whispers were silent, only one vampire in her mind listening.

"Spike..."

His hands ran down her legs and spread them wide, fingers dancing along her thighs. Shivering, her own hands raised above her head where he had placed them, she tried not to wriggle while he drew her top up, cold fingers touching, gliding...

"Lift up a little for me, pet."

She did as asked. Her strapless bra was bared, then quickly removed. Her skirt rode high, the slit now outlining her hip. Spike was making his way down her body at a leisurely pace, tongue tasting, tracing... Her spine arched.

Buffy's hands sought him out frantically; Spike shoved them back into place. He squeezed her wrists in silent command, and she did not move them again.

With a wandering mouth and nipping at her thighs, little tingles falling on her skin like rain, Spike pushed her skirt up to bunch around her waist. He tongued the wet material covering her, clinging to her, then tore the little garment in two.

At the sound of seams ripping Buffy gasped, and that was all she was able to do for the next God knows how long while Spike tasted and delved, releasing inaudible growls into too-sensitive flesh. Cries left her throat, and she relished the grip of his fingers on her hips as he grasped at control. She hoped for small purple embellishments of ownership to mark her skin, no matter how wrong the thought. And the soft sheets rubbed against her back with every up-thrust and pull-back like a steady reminder of whose bed she lay in.

"I won't ever let you go, you know that, don' you?"

The declaration surprised her, but Buffy strayed back from words, her vocal chords not her own. Spike's searching mouth moved up her body and took her lips in a kiss that made her toes curl. She felt his fingers dig into her thighs and spread them wider.

His hips settled between and he stared into her eyes, all heat, intensity and fire. "You're mine." He brought one hand up to trail his fingers over her unmarred throat. "Even if this hasn't happened yet..."

Buffy steadied her hummingbird heartbeat with a desperate intake of breath, her head was getting dizzy. She managed a nod and then pulled his face back to her own, taking his lips in a finalizing kiss, and she felt him slip inside.

It was owning and taking. Consuming. Overwhelming. Heat turned limbs hard and immovable except for jerky grabs and desperate holds. She moaned embarrassingly loud and fought for air with every sweaty lift of her hips, felt skin gathering in her pinching hands, nails scratching. Spike took her ankles and rose them up, putting her in a vulnerable but deepening position that made Buffy's head hit the mattress.

She arched her back the deeper he went, and whimpered harshly when he grabbed her wrists again and slowed the movement. He changed his once brutal rhythm into a slow, sensual glide. Her nerves hummed. Spike's body poised above hers, their chests barely brushing as he took and took unmercifully, held her open for himself. Her body gladly received and obeyed, her feet stayed high and her knees clamped to his ribcage even as they ached.

He whispered things to her in between nipping her throat and chin and shoulders, teasing and horrifying her with every response his imaginings wrought from her own mouth. Buffy's fists dug into the bed as she signed agreements, promises, words that only added to the blushing heat.

She promised him her body tied up, promised her legs spread and shackled, her hair spilling over his stomach and his cock in her mouth. She begged for him to stay inside her, she asked for him to go harder. She promised to let him tie her hands if only he would touch her, relinquished control as she never had before and never would to anyone else. Buffy gave herself, and received her due.

She came with a high pitched shout that might have been a shriek, but it sounded far from her ears. Spike's cock buried inside her as he ground down hard, and harder still while she rode it out. He did not stop, did not separate from her, their sweaty bodies were touching in every way. His fangs were at her throat, his demon growling as she finished in his arms and panted harshly into his shoulder.

Buffy knew he wanted to taste her as surely as she knew his fangs were less than an inch from her jugular. This was temptation incarnate. Still, she wanted to see how it would make him feel if he bit her, and wanted Spike to feel that, even if the claim was not yet happening.

"You can try it," she said. Spike looked into her eyes, amber meeting hazel green. Her lips released sweet breaths onto his face, her gaze loving and relaxed. "If you want to, have a taste."

Slight indecision, worry that he might not be able to control himself, appeared on his face. She saw it and read it plainly. But then, the next second it was gone, replaced by need and desire too strong to deny. He bent to her throat, licking where her pulse thrummed forcefully beneath her skin, as if it was jumping up to him. He bit, gentle yet rough, she flinched but for a second, and then her eyes shot open.

With his fangs imbedded in her skin, everything sparkled. Her hands clamped desperately to his head as all thoughts left the arena, her sight disappeared and she slammed her hips up into his. It arrived like lightning, unexpected and sharp. Her voice was that of a banshee or a breeze, loud yet out of earshot again. Her neck craned backwards, her legs became steel. Spike's hands lifted her up and Buffy felt a territorial snarl at her throat beneath her quickly depleting consciousness.

She'd had no idea...

Slowly, she returned home, quietly and in the arms of her lover. She was sitting up, in his lap; she didn't know when she'd done that. She felt him gingerly retract his fangs, and moaned very softly at the loss, for it was a great one. She wanted to feel them again almost immediately. She wanted to know what he'd tasted. She wanted to know if it would always feel that good.

"What... What was that about?" were the only words she could manage to get out. Her breathing began to return to normal.

Spike's arms surrounding her, touching her, soothing with their strength and promise, held her impossibly close. He breathlessly answered, "That was about the best bloody thing that's ever happened to me."

Buffy smiled.

Then woke up.

To an alarm.

It was loud, and it was unpleasant. She turned her head over and looked at her chiming phone, the device she needed but on mornings loathed.

She glared, checked the time and then made a disgusted noise. She'd gone to bed way too late last night.

Remembering her dream suddenly, the one which was only a memory of said night, Buffy had to admit, it had been worth it.

Very, very worth it.

***

She absentmindedly rubbed the healing bite wound on her neck as she made her way to Leonard's. The jagged, raised flesh wasn't too sore, just foreign. She'd had to cover it partially with makeup, and hope that nobody noticed she wasn't wearing her hair in a ponytail today.

Pig tails felt a little bit kindergartner for her, though.

Buffy huffed and undid them, gathering her hair in one hand and quickly creating a droopy, side bun that covered the scabs which looked more like dry skin with the makeup on them. She might need to consider investing in some really good concealer- Maybe that stuff used for covering up tattoos and scars?

*I wonder if I can get Spike to pay for it,* she thought to herself. It wasn't that she regretted her decision last night- God, she did not regret anything about it. It's just that this wasn't only a hickey, but a bite mark with multiple puncture holes. It was a little difficult to explain to people, you couldn't just use the "burnt myself with a curling iron" excuse.

And even if that would work, who would believe she was always burning herself? This bitey thing might become- Well, she HOPED it would become a regular thing- That wasn't bad, right? No. It wasn't. She shouldn't even be blushing.

Spike had explained that he'd known what would happen; biting always made sex better in the way of vampires and their partners. And it made her blood sweeter, he said, when she was turned on during or before a bite. He enjoyed it. She certainly did, too.

Buffy found her hand yet again at her marred throat, and rolled her eyes at herself as she removed the touch, ignoring a tingle.

It was strange being in love with a vampire, that was for sure.

***

Buffy tied on her apron and straightened her nametag, taking a deep breath before she entered the kitchen. She was working a double today.

Displaying a smile, and quickly finding Harriet, Buffy made sure she had her same tables as usual.

"Yep, everyone came in today. But it's still gonna be a long day, and you're not behind the counter for a few hours yet, darlin. Why don't you go and grab yourself a cup of coffee to have at your fingertips 'fore you start runnin 'round?"

Buffy gratefully heeded this advice, quickly realizing just how badly she needed the occasional caffeine jolt after she was moving around the diner's busy floor.

There were more people than usual. It was a Friday, which was the most hectic night for some reason. She supposed people had just regained their appetites following all of the big Thanksgiving meals yesterday. And Friday was movie night. A lot of teenagers came in around ten or so, old couples out for weekly dates filled up the tables for two. Families came for a simple dinner, and girlfriends were in and out all day long to discuss their individual love lives over coffee. Buffy would be here until closing, with the crowd fluctuating and pressing in on her for hours, but the time would pass quickly.

It was exhausting. She'd done it before, but not a double shift. She was only taking over for someone who had asked for the day off weeks in advance, and Buffy was looking forward to her paycheck, even if it wasn't a whole lot. It was still hers and it was nice to have that.

She had gotten better at listening to people, without feeling like her head might explode. Chatter became a background noise, and unless directly spoken to, she could wade in it. She had earned comfortable ground with other waitresses besides Harriet, and the busboys and cooks, too. She shared jokes with them. Buffy could even recognize the problem customers as if she'd been working here for years rather than just a few weeks.

She found herself remembering little facts about the townspeople, their last names, the usual orders, their relations to other customers.

Belatedly, Buffy recognized that she was becoming a townie.

While refilling an empty napkin holder, she also realized- with slight mortification -that she was beginning to enjoy it.

She blew out a sigh as she examined herself internally, weaving through the throng of people and back to the kitchen after returning the napkin holder to its table. She used both hands to tug on her messy side bun, tightening the do.

It wasn't a brand new thing, this sense of belonging and the emotion of enjoying it- Slightly! She enjoyed it SLIGHTLY. The comfort had come in time, over a routine of showing up to work and talking- maybe a bit reluctantly -to the customers and fellow employees. Harriet was often working behind the counter when Buffy got her lunch break, and the two of them would hangout for a while. The tall, smiley woman was bright but not overbearing, and she was kind. She set Buffy at ease.

Then, like talking to Harriet, it all became easier, nicer, to converse a little bit with the others. Leo often teased her like an uncle or grandfather might, and strangely, the comparison did not bring Buffy to the edge of tears.

Her legs and feet were gaining endurance- or just turning numb, she wasn't sure. She just knew that she was no longer as sore and tired as she had been at the beginning of this job. Her arms were getting toned from all of the tray carrying, and her mind wandered seldom.

Sometimes, she still felt like she was lost in a bog, dark and frozen in some unseen sludge; but those times were becoming farther and fewer between. She could look in the mirror at her mother's locket around her neck and imagine missing her, DID miss her, but the reflection did not make Buffy break down as it once had.

There was a time, only last week, when an older lady had commented on Joyce Summers. She'd told Buffy that she looked just like her.

Orders had been a bit sloppy afterwards, and Buffy hadn't looked anymore at her necklace that evening. Yet some foreign feeling of warmth had coated her wounds. And when she got home, out of curiosity or a desperate grasp at courage, she summoned the will to go and look at the photos in the attic.

Buffy did resemble her mom, she'd learned; even through the blur she could see it.

Each day at Leonard's, in Spike's arms, in this town, with her Grams- It was all changing her. She was learning how not to look at the ground all the time, she could get lost in a song or a book without coming back to a glaringly rough world and only wishing to leave again.

Her library was more than just an escape- Well, it had been more ever since she'd seen Spike there, really. But now it was a different kind of sanctuary, a place of past memories and more to come. It was another home. She went there happily, with a coffee in hand- The place she bought from always knew what her order was -and she could read and research for the guys, and look forward to seeing them all later.

She never found much of importance there regarding the Gem, spells, or even a great deal more on mating and vampires; but she tried. Some days she would read for pleasure only, and work with the guys after Spike came to get her.

And some days, like today, she would work at the diner, knowing he would come to walk her home once she was done. Sometimes he came in a bit early to pickup food, and sometimes the guys all came with. They'd started doing that after Spike had forgotten a couple of things on one order.

The times they tagged along were random and- Buffy believed -triggered by boredom. When they didn't, the group claimed it was because they had too much to do, even if their workload had not changed at all since Flora's initial appearance. The times they did decide to go with Spike, they said it was because he needed "supervision" when it came to ordering their food, ever since that last time.

Buffy rolled her eyes to herself. Really, it was not the end of the world if Rex didn't get his T-bone cooked rare versus medium-rare, the thunderbird could just be so picky sometimes. And Blake- man of maturity -had given three year olds around the globe a run for their money on tantrums when he didn't receive his strawberry milkshake. Even Stevo was a bit testy Spike had missed writing down an extra bottle of hot sauce.

Truthfully, Buffy didn't know how Spike had forgotten that one, but he'd remembered the jalapeño poppers. That should be enough spiciness for the both of them.

She bit her lip to stop a groan as she set a full plate down in front of a customer. "Enjoy."

Honestly, one of these days, when it was her turn to bring the food home, she was going to tell them she'd forgotten completely and that Leo had closed early. She'd let them border on self combustion before telling them she was only kidding. That'd be a nice little lesson on when to be grateful and when to complain.

*Hmm,* she mused, *Maybe Ace will turn purple if I tell him we're out of coffee sometime.*

Buffy giggled to herself and tapped her pencil eraser against the notepad in her hands, approaching her newest table. She could have so much fun with her guys and their snackage dependency.

Actually, they didn't snack. They just ate, like pigs. Giant, mutant pigs with four stomachs- Wait, that was cows. Okay, giant mutant cows.

Buffy shook her head. Her clever factor had retired about three minutes ago.

"Hi there. Would you guys like something to drink to start off your meal?" she asked her three new customers. Before they could respond, Harriet tapped her on the shoulder and then stole her pad and pencil away once Buffy turned around. "What's up?"

"It's your shift at the counter, hun. Susette can barely stand it any longer, Jimmy just won't leave her alone."

Buffy blinked before her memory kicked in. Susette was a couple years younger than herself, and had just broken up with her boyfriend for the sixteenth time. They were having a rough, teenage love story and everyone at the diner, and probably in town as well, knew when to say they were cute and when to steer away from conflict.

Buffy nodded and turned back around to tell her customers that they had a waitress switch, and then smiled at the taller woman in the matching apron. "What about the others?"

"What?" Harriet remarked. "The tables? You've only got this one full at the moment, and besides, I figure I should take em now before the Wallaces get in." She winked. "Those kids are sweet but louder than a rooster in the morning. You don't deserve that on a night you're workin a double."

Buffy shook her head with a laugh. "Neither do you, we're working the same hours tonight."

"Yeah, but I've been trained from years of knowin that family. YOU have not. Now get," she swatted Buffy on the hip with the notepad, "I think Susie's 'bout to poor a drink over Jim's head again."

Buffy felt her lips stubbornly curl upwards as she approached the yellow counter, stools filled from end to end with customers and one very frazzled girl trying to ignore a persistent, and apologetic boy with floppy brown hair, while running around.

Buffy quickly wiggled her way between people to get behind the counter, glancing up at the clock. It had been quite a while since she'd gotten in, the time was now nearing nine o'clock.

When it was busy, time had the tendency to pass rapidly, which she was grateful for. Though not quite as grateful as Susette looked when Buffy relieved her of counter duty.

Jimmy followed the girl, but Susette would be running around too much now for him to continue bothering her. Hopefully. Buffy sighed to herself. *Poor guy- Er, girl. Poor both of them, really.*

"What's the matter babe?"

Her head jerked around to meet the eyes of a stranger, his gaze glued to her. Buffy searched his unfamiliar face, muddy brown eyes and bushy brows. He had on a dirty plaid shirt with a tear in the front by his collar. His expression was open- Too open. She could see the interest in his eyes, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been in the diner, but she suddenly got a weird, unwelcome feeling at the thought of this man watching her for any long period of time.

Buffy cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

He leaned in a little closer, his smile wide and seemingly imbedded in at least a week's worth of no shaving. "I asked if something was wrong." He tilted his head and did a once over on her front, lingering at the place where her locket hung.

Buffy bit the inside of her cheek. "Nope. I'm just fine." She turned and grabbed the conveniently placed coffee pot. "How 'bout you? Want some more coffee?"

The man didn't even glance at his half empty mug. "Un uh, I think I want something else, though..."

Buffy ignored the innuendo entirely as his eyes glittered with something disturbingly greedy. "Well, just let me know when you think of it," she said quickly, and then was off.

He got closer and grabbed her wrist. Buffy's head didn't turn as he whispered to her, his hot breath hitting her shoulder. "Oh I think I've thought of it..."

***

"Blueberry."

"Why can't we just get both?"

"They won't have both, Dylan," Blake said petulantly. "They never do."

"It's like the pumpkin and blueberry have a schoolgirl fight going on, they're never together- Never on the menu at the same time." Ace turned and looked pointedly at Blake. "And you had blueberry two nights ago. Pumpkin t'night."

"It's not like either of you can change the outcome of what they're serving tonight," Rex pointed out.

"Maybe Buffy can get some extra made or something."

"You're not puttin her through any extra trouble, stop bickering, it's just bloody dessert." Spike threw the arguers a look of impatience over his shoulder, wishing fervently on some childish level that there wouldn't be any pumpkin OR blueberry pie at the diner.

Buffy would roll her eyes at their antics, then somehow come up with a compromise to end the squabble. She had a way about her, and though Spike should feel bad about coming in with the whole group early, and no doubt end up distracting the girl, he couldn't.

He kept thinking about her. But since he's decided to go to Leonard's early, with a plan to sit and possibly catch Buffy on her break, the guys had chosen to tag along.

He was used to it, he wasn't angry, and as the chatter of five blended into the noise of this town's version of a lively Friday night, Spike managed to drift off into his own memories.

The night before had left behind some very fond memories indeed.

Spike nearly groaned aloud at just remembering the way he'd had Buffy so close to him, her throat now marked, and knowing the almost sickening sweet taste of her blood. It bordered on too much, but wasn't enough either. She was better than what his nose had first told him so long ago.

He'd never get used to the feeling of her beneath him or the taste of her blood, and similarly would never tire of such things. Hell, he craved both right now, as he walked in strides close to his friends who were no doubt discussing food. All Spike could think of was his girl in his bed, the night before, and every night in the future.

He couldn't do this much longer. She had to let him claim her sooner rather than later, lest he explode.

It had been one of the hardest things in the world last night to keep words from slipping out at the touch of her blood on his tongue. He loved Buffy. He would do anything for her, anything to keep her. And his mind was filled with her.

Idea of grandeur, maybe, the plan of forever. It was something he was sure he'd have to explain to her Grams after it happened... Personally, Spike didn't want the woman's opinion yet, not until after the deed was done.

He wasn't scared Buffy would back out, or that her grandmother wouldn't approve- Of course she wouldn't, her granddaughter was going to be linked to a vampire. Spike only cared as much as Buffy did. She might have considered her Grams' opinion already, and if so, it evidently wasn't a swaying factor.

Maybe she'd already accepted Anne Summers' likely reaction, and just hoped the woman would come around in time. Spike wouldn't mind meeting her properly before this, but she was honestly one of the farthest things from his mind.

The closest- Well, only thing really, was blonde, had a smile that could blind, legs too enticing for words, and looked cute as all hell in an apron.

And he was in love with her.

"Hey Spike."

"What?"

Dylan approached him with an innocent face that bellied the hope in his brown eyes. "Think Buffy would mind if we just ordered and ate here?"

"Since when d'you get big on socializin?" Spike asked with a frown. "Thought you were seein your computer."

Dylan glared halfheartedly at the dig, and replied, "We're going on four years now. I just don't feel like waiting for my food on my way back to her."

"At least it's a 'her,' " Blake mumbled.

Dylan's glare was harder that time.

Spike snickered softly and turned his head back as he started moving towards the diner door. They had just approached the restaurant with people coming in and out before everything stopped. It was only a split second, as Spike's eyes caught the window glass, saw past the foggy reflection of a street lamp, and then flared.

He sped inside, the door slamming behind him like a warning bell.

The guys stopped quickly before Stevo took a look through the closest window, and Blake joked, "You think he'll slow down once he's within launching distance of her?"

Stevo squinted and saw past the glare of the lights. "Damn it."

Rex and Ace looked at each other as the gypsy hurried inside, followed immediately by Dylan who looked to be straightening his glasses.

It was only a moment before the remaining three, defensive and angry, had bolted inside.

***

The jerk had smacked her ass.

Yes, she knew the term, "The customer is always right," and personally, Buffy hated it.

She had expressly DECLINED the pervert's... invitation. She had then ignored him, and if he asked for any coffee refills, she poured quick and without making eye contact.

And when she walked by, she could feel his eyes on her. It was gross, but she endured and ignored. Then, one time, walking out from behind the counter and consequently, right past him, had given the asshole PERFECT aim.

Buffy had stopped, her teeth gritting against themselves as she borrowed a sliver of control from some unseen God, before turning around.

Walking to the coffee pots, freshly brewed and hot, Buffy picked up the decaf and faced Asshole of the night, and Asshole Buddy chuckling at his side. "More coffee?" she asked in a saccharine tone of voice, and Bushy Brows nodded with a slight leer. She pointed at his cup, indicating that he should push it closer, for she was standing back, then filled it. And filled it. She filled it to overflowing and watched with satisfaction as the steaming liquid spilled over the rim and coated the man's hand.

He tore it away with an expletive, standing up and shaking his now burnt, decaffeinated ass-slapper. Buffy let herself smirk a little, but felt it slip as he shouted, "You did that on purpose!"

She shook her head. "Oh, I'm very sorry. Ya know," she set the coffeepot back down, "I can just be such a klutz sometimes." A falsely considerate smile sprouted from her hard lips, "But ya know, you should really watch where you put your hands."

"You little bitch!" He leaned over the counter, gripping his side of it as his face twisted with insulting words. The man was oblivious to the people around, the attention he was getting, and with as close as he was to her, Buffy was pretty unaware, too.

He was a stranger passing through MayBell, he had to be. No one here acted like this. No one swung their dirty fingers in her face while calling her names and made her back up into the drink machine. Her heart started to beat a bit faster.

She was, admittedly, a little scared. That just annoyed her.

The grabby stranger's eyes were flaming and unfriendly, even his friend who'd laughed at his antics of impropriety and arrogance before was now moving away in embarrassment and... caution? Crap.

"What kind of fucking service does this place hire out?! Blonde tramps that-!"

Just in a moment, a second of action, the yelling stopped. The waving hands and angry expression disappeared, and the eyes of the diner had left Buffy's prepared, watchful body language to witness a jerk hitting the floor.

Spike had grabbed his shirt collar and pulled, yanking the grubby man to the ground. There was a loud thud which could have been described as a bang it was so loud, it did not sound like flesh meeting tile. A hearty groan followed, and then Spike's angry eyes were on her face. His nostrils were flaring, his bright gaze taking her in and roaming over her body like a microscope. He was checking on her, then, he was again focusing on the man at his feet. And mercy was nowhere.

Buffy felt her breaths coming in quiet pants, deep and only loud enough for her to hear. Stevo and Ace were nearby, they came forward at once with a purpose, protective friends- No, family, to the rescue.

Ace grabbed Spike and Stevo the stranger, hauling him up by his unattractive shirt now with a new tear in it. The man was angrier than before, she could see it on his ruddy face, but the wind had basically been knocked out of him. It would take the guy a minute to complain.

Spike, on the other hand, was vocal and alive. He shoved Ace's halting grip from his shoulder and took a menacing step closer to the man in plaid, his eyes close and threatening. "You need to leave. But first, I wanna know why you were screamin at the girl." His bleached head nodded in her direction.

The man sucked in a few more clumsy breaths and Stevo, with a granite hard expression on his face, tightened his hold on the thick neck in his hands, making the stranger wince.

Blake, Dylan and Rex were there next, and Buffy realized belatedly that somehow the guys all knew what had happened- At least, they'd witnessed this guy yelling at her and bending over the counter to make his complaints heard. And they didn't like it. They didn't like it at all.

Something in Buffy's heart warmed, even as the erratic beat refused to calm overmuch.

Her own thoughts had deafened what the angry customer replied, but not the reaction it received. Blake sped forward in front of her boyfriend as Ace hauled the vampire back. They held Spike tight as he fumed, obvious but quiet. Stevo's chokehold tightened and the man whimpered in pain as his back was pulled into an awkward arch. Dylan swallowed thickly as he stared at the man, and Rex's expression didn't beg for questions.

Just then, before anyone could say much else except for Stevo remarking in the man's ear that his behavior wasn't very polite, Leonard showed up. He didn't look happy, and quickly asked what was going on. He cast frustrated glances all around before turning to Buffy.

She swallowed and gathered her nerve. "I spilled some coffee on his hand... and he uh, didn't react very well." She nodded at the strange layout of men, one held up like a prized pig and another simply held back- somewhat reluctantly -by two more. "These g-guys are my friends," she said, inwardly rebuking herself for the damned stutter.

Fortunately, she didn't have to explain much more. Leo got this look on his face, it was stormy and made him somehow look both younger and older all at once. He turned on the stranger and grabbed him from Stevo's arms like a sack of potatoes. "You're out of here, fella."

"Hey, let go of me! You've no right to lay your hands on me!" He shoved Leo off, but the older man just grabbed him again, yanking harshly as they moved unsteadily toward the diner's exit.

"You should have the same respect for those who serve you," Leonard reprimanded. He paused in his grappling to look the man in the eye. "It's either gettin your butt thrown outta here by me, or those boys," he cocked his head at Spike and the rest. The ruffled looking stranger glared at them all steamily, his sneering eyes resting on Buffy before he simply asking, "Can I at least have my fuckin coat?"

She saw the thick, mustard colored thing left on the stool for the first time, and considered picking it up to toss it to him. She just wanted the guy gone. But Dylan cut her off before she could even open her mouth.

"No," he replied plainly, any pity he might be holding for the man either masked or nonexistent. Buffy was wagering on the latter.

Infuriated, indignant, he turned around in a huff, and Leonard followed to make sure he left.

Buffy released a sigh once he was out of sight, finally noticing for the first time the amount of attention they'd all gained from the diner's occupants. Her cheeks turned red at the stares, she blocked out the whispers that barely met her ears, and averted her gaze from the crowd to find Spike's like a homing signal.

His attention was sharp, taking in her face with heated worry and concern. He approached her like it was what he'd been waiting to do this whole time. Maybe it was.

"Did he touch you?"

She frowned. "W-What?" She shouldn't be, but Buffy was blindsided.

"I caught that little comment your boss made, pet. Now tell me, did he touch you?" His voice was hard, his expression worse. Buffy sighed.

"He'd been giving me trouble, flirting and stuff... I ignored him but when I walked past him one time he slapped my butt." She shrugged tightly. "That's why I spilled the coffee."

She saw the jaw clench. She saw the fire in those blue eyes. She hastily grabbed his arm when he turned around as if to leave. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" he replied with disdain.

"Spike don't, just forget him. His wandering hand got burnt for its troubles." She moved out from behind her protective counter without letting go of his leather sleeve. "Please. He's gone now."

Spike didn't look very appeased. Just when she thought he was going to ignore her and bolt after the offender, the one who had laid a hand on her, Rex slipped by them and picked up said man's mustard coat.

Buffy frowned, and Spike rose a brow. The brunette gave them a tempered expression. "I'm going to return this to him," he remarked. Then, without facing them, asked aloud, "Stev, Ace, ya wanna join me?"

They quickly agreed, and before Buffy could properly react or decide whether or not she should stop them, Blake slid up as they left the building. "Can't let him go without that, it's cold outside." He grinned thinly at Spike and her. "He might lose his arms to frostbite."

Buffy couldn't not reply to that one. "He better not lose anything!"

The three remaining men all gave her questioning looks, and she sighed loudly before whispering harshly to the protective superbeings. "A harmed enemy is not a good one to leave behind- And there is SO no way I'm letting you guys make him disappear just because he smacked my ass." Her eyes were hard, and she knew they understood that she meant business.

Dylan sighed and looked away. "I'll go control them." Blake rolled his eyes as the half-mortal left to prevent too much damage from coming to a rude man with bad taste in clothes, and Spike's jaw stubbornly unclenched.

Buffy leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, then said to Blake and him, "Thank you guys."

"No need to thank us. No one gets away with harming someone in this gang, especially our little human." Blake winked at her.

Buffy smiled.

She was part of the "gang." Even if her title was the "little human," she still really liked the sound of that.

"You're okay?" Spike asked her, his eyes yet again searching and aware.

Buffy nodded. "I'm fine, Spike."

"I'm glad ta hear it," Leonard chimed in. He came up to her, glancing briefly at Spike as he passed him. "I saw what happened before you spilled the coffee, honey. I would've stepped in sooner if I hadn't been curious to see what you was gonna do with that decaf pot." He looked pointedly at the bleached blonde and the brunette beside him. "Turns out though, I didn't really have to step in at all, I believe."

Buffy smiled softly at Leonard and replied apologetically, "I'm sorry about the trouble, I just couldn't not do anything after-"

"Don't you dare be sorry," he interrupted. "I've never seen that moron in here before and I'll be sure to kick him out if I ever do again." He opened his eyes wide at her and said, "And you be sure to call me from the kitchen, or one of the other fellas here, if someone ever gives you a rough time again, got it?"

She nodded acutely and Leonard's face softened as he gave her a closed lipped smile. Before walking away, he addressed Blake and Spike. "Oh," he said, "I saw your friends leave here with that man's coat."

The two superbeings looked at one another before turning back to him. Spike answered. "Yeh. Ya did. They were gonna return it to him after all."

Leonard grinned. "I figured."

"Did you want us to stop em?" Blake asked curiously, his eyes narrowed.

"Not at all. I held the door open for em."

Buffy got that warm feeling in her heart again as Leonard walked away, and something heavy fell off her shoulders as she turned back to see her boyfriend's approving, considerate face.

Spike leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Buffy took it for what it was, reassurance, as well as support. She felt him rubbing circles into the back of her hand with his thumb. She pulled her face away from his to look into his eyes, and with a closing sigh, asked, "So, you guys came in early. Did you wanna eat here?"

"Well," Blake answered as he plopped onto a stool, "It was an idea. But now it's definitely the plan." He looked at Spike."I don't think any of us really wanna leave you here alone any longer tonight, dollface."

"Oh." Buffy suddenly jumped and Spike's arms were around her instantly, like a ready cage. Someone, a girl, no more than sixteen, had just walked up and addressed her with the typical name of "Excuse me."

Buffy sighed again, inwardly cursing her jumpiness, and smiled at the girl, prying Spike's arms off reluctantly. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering-" The girl's large eyes landed on Spike, and she looked suddenly wary. Buffy frowned, then understanding hit when she saw his threatening expression, though she didn't know why it was there. She whispered at him to stop it and stepped around to smile as disarmingly she could at the girl. "Wondering what?"

"U-Um..." her deep brown eyes landed on Spike's surely intimidating form behind Buffy, but she bravely continued. "What time do you close?" she asked.

"Midnight."

"Thanks." The girl left quickly, walking backwards with her still frightened eyes on Spike's unfriendly face.

Buffy turned around, hands on hips, once she was out of sight. "What was that for?"

He looked over her head, breaking eye contact. "You shouldn't have ta work anymore t'night."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm not made of glass, Spike. Will you relax?"

She passed him and moved behind the counter again, grabbing a notepad and pencil. Her vampire's blue eyes were still diamond hard when she met them once again. Buffy sighed. "Are ya gonna order or stand there staring at me like a dog who should be on a leash?"

Blake snorted. At his continued chuckling, Spike had to smirk just a little. "I'm a bit on edge, love. Pardon it."

"He'll stay that way for a week, just watch," Blake remarked.

"Well, he shouldn't be on edge about a young girl," Buffy scolded, her eyes on the vampire. "Now," she said, her pencil at the ready, "what'll ya have?"

The Brit rose an eyebrow as Blake started listing off orders, and asking about Blueberry pie.

***

Her strides crunched dry leaves and stiff dirt, peddles getting kicked away by her hyper feet. The girl moved as quickly as a cat but without the grace, her legs cold and stumbling. She finally made it to the meeting place, and for five minutes she waited, shivering for a reason other than the chill in the air.

Then, the woman appeared. She was wearing something ethereal looking. SHE looked ethereal.

It was the only reason the girl had done what she was told to do.

"Does he? Answer me child."

She stuttered like a baby, but she couldn't even blame herself. She didn't know why she was relaying the information she was, or who that waitress was to this woman, but she was too scared to question much. "I th-think so. H- He looked like I- Like he was going to hurt me or something when I talked to her after that jerky guy left."

The woman hummed, like she was thinking hard about something. Then, "What did you ask?"

"When the diner closed."

"Good. Trivial. She won't suspect anything since you don't live here... When are you leaving again, dear?"

"M-My parents are driving us home before Monday, I have school."

"I understand. Well, thank you for your cooperation."

She nodded in reply, and was about to turn and leave when something very dangerous, something very immature and close to curiosity jabbed at her, prodded her to ask, "Why did... How come you wanted to know if he loved her?"

The woman was quiet for a moment. Then, a frightening chuckle seeped past her lips like warmed liquor, dangerous as a flame. "Because men like him don't fall in love every day, but when they do, it can be very useful... to others."

The girl gulped, and she didn't know why the statement sounded so evil or wrong, but it did. She trusted her gut then, and turned around to leave.

Antonia waved her hand and halted the young thing, and she twisted and twirled her fingers together as she erased the memories of the night. "Now," she spoke softly, "go back to your parents and tell them you had a nice time at the little diner in town."

The witch pushed her in the back, and then left the teenager to walk alone. She'd gotten her answer.

In truth, the girl's words would have been enough to reassure her, but a spell was always good backup. Her teenage eyes could spot love in a mythic-like way, but accurately and very true. The owner of said eyes often did not even recognize this such ability, and it was known by no others. Hearts of teenage girls were huge and unmarred, trusting and hopeful. They were always open to love, and a chant had gotten Antonia the answers she needed.

A random young female, a spell, one witnessed interaction, and those big brown eyes had turned pink when she was questioned about Spike and his little waitress. That was all there was to it, really. A trivial spell from the beginning of when humans had walked the earth, simple and not hard to cast.

There was no need to ask for more, or look upon the duo herself. The witch had her answer.

___________________________________
END NOTES: That scene with the sleazy guy touching Buffy I got from the music video "Meet Virginia" by Train. I love that video and the diner in it is what I kind of think of when I think of Leonard's too. :)
Thanks for reading! And for the reviews- Which I always appreciate!





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