Buffy was surprised when she found Anya knocking at Clem's door. “Hi.”
“Oh.” Anya was wringing her hands nervously. “I thought you'd be inside.”
“I needed to go for a little walk.” The Slayer glanced down at the overnight bag in Anya's pale grip. “Is everything okay?”
The ex-demon's shoulders dropped. “No. Tara gave me the address you were staying at.” She looked at her shyly, which was a characteristic Buffy had rarely seen on her friend's fiancee. “I was hoping it wouldn't be a bother...”
Buffy shook her head and smiled. “No. Not at all. I mean, I think we should check with Clem.” She gave an apologetic look. “But I doubt he'd mind? Let's just check now and see,” she babbled.
“A friend of Buffy's is a friend of mine,” Clem replied later after the girls had explained Anya's situation. “The couch pulls out.”
“I'll get you some bedclothes, pet,” Spike said, going for the closet.
“Thanks,” Anya said quietly. “Really not meaning to steal your thunder, Buffy, but this entire situation is making me see Xander in a light I'm not very comfortable with. And nothing really ever . . . makes me uncomfortable. Which makes me uncomfortable. Is that hard to understand?”
Buffy gave her an amused smile. “Not at all, actually.” She handed Anya a pillow. “Margaret doesn't really sleep through the night all that much, so you might get woken up like the rest of us.”
She nodded. “That's okay. It helps that she's unbearably cute. Whoever this creator guy is, he really thought things through with babies.”
The Slayer laughed. Anya smiled at her.
“It's good to see you so happy,” the ex-demon commented.
“Thanks,” Buffy said, surprised.
Anya shrugged. “It's not everyday that you see someone enjoying life as much as you do after being resurrected in your own grave.”
The blonde girl winced. “There are some bad moments . . .”
Her friend's fiancee nodded. “That's understandable.”
The girls stood in a companionable silence as Spike pulled out the couch bed. They helped him get the fitted sheet on and tucked the pillow into its case.
Buffy turned to her friend. “Goodnight, Anya.”
She beamed. “Goodnight. I sleep like a log most of the time so please feel free to have sex with one another.”
Buffy's face was as red as a tomato as Spike laughed. He ushered her into their bedroom as Anya climbed into the guest bed.
Spike tugged on Buffy's hand as he got comfortable in bed. She followed in after him, cuddling into his side as though they'd done this for ages. Their eyes met and Spike couldn't help but smile at her, cupping her cheek. Buffy shyly averted her gaze, pressing a soft kiss into his palm.
“Love you,” Spike said gently.
Buffy didn't know how to answer, so she only threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Spike liked that enough. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent as he kissed her hair.
They were silent for a long while, and Buffy tensed when she could hear Anya crying in the living room.
“Spike, I . . .”
He nodded. “Go.”
Buffy opened the bedroom door to find Anya curled on her side. “Hey,” she said softly.
“S-Sorry,” Anya whispered. “I'm not normally so tearful.”
“It's okay. We've all gone through a lot,” she replied, sitting at the foot of the bed.
Anya sat up and scooted closer, wiping her eyes with the corner of her blanket. “It's funny, in that ironic way, funny. I used to exact vengeance on guys who acted as ignorant as Xander is acting, and all I can do now is cry these stupid tears.”
Buffy nodded. “I felt that way when The Council took my powers away on my seventeenth birthday. It was just for a short time, but I felt incredibly weak when I realized how much I rely on my Slayer strength.”
The ex-demon nodded. She glanced at her. “If Spike makes you happy, don't allow others' beliefs to bend you the other way.” She shrugged. “You've only got so much time. I mean, unless people keep resurrecting you . . .”
Buffy laughed, surprised at how easy it was for her to do so. “Well, I hope this is the last of it. It's hard knowing what I had to leave. That I was there and it was so easily taken from me.” She paused, realizing that she was talking about things healthily for the first time to someone who wasn't Spike or Giles. She studied Anya's face. “I hope Xander snaps out of it.”
The other girl shot her a grateful look. “Me, too.”
Buffy crawled back into bed, meeting Spike's gaze with a grateful look as he opened the covers for her.
“She doin' alright?” he asked.
“No,” Buffy sighed. “For someone so exposed to the supernatural on a day to day basis, Xander is really . . . he's really . . .” She struggled tiredly for the word.
“A ponce?” Spike supplied.
Buffy laughed, burying her face in his chest. Spike relished it, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
“M'a lucky man,” he murmured, instantly feeling unworthy once his words touched the air.
Buffy studied his face for a long time, then glanced behind her at Margaret sleeping in her crib. “I think we've both been pretty lucky so far,” she said quietly.
Spike released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Buffy smiled as he hid his face in her shoulder, playing with the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck.
Buffy took a deep breath, swallowed. “I lo--”
Margaret cut her off with a piercing cry. Buffy playfully rolled her eyes as she stood to see to her daughter. Meanwhile, Spike was still in bed, frozen to the spot.
He watched Buffy pat Margaret back to sleep, stepping back as her breathing deepened.
“Buffy?” Spike sounded more vulnerable than she'd ever heard him.
She smiled and sat next to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she whispered, tightening her embrace.
Spike sat stock still, and was still silent as she withdrew to look at his face.
“Those moments that I saw you with Margaret, from wherever I was to in the flesh . . . And watching you protect my friends and my sister even when you thought I was gone. And how you've taken care of Margaret and me so far, and how you're always at my side . . . Those are just a couple things that I love about you, Spike.” She smiled shyly and brought her legs up to her chest.
She laughed as Spike launched himself at her, covering her with kisses and sweeping her up into his arms.
“This isn't a dream,” Spike murmured.
Buffy smiled and cupped his cheek.
“I love you,” he breathed.
She grinned. “I love you.”
“Cor, I don't deserve you,” he whispered, looking upon her face as if seeing it for the first time. His eyes roved over her features as if committing it all to memory.
Buffy shrugged. “Who says what we deserve, anyway? I think it's just better to make the most of things.”
Spike smiled and kissed her loudly on the mouth, enjoying her giggles. Her eyes were getting heavy and he made sure that she was comfortable, tucking the blanket underneath her chin and wrapping his arms around her. His girl had had a long couple days and he was happy that when she closed her eyes to go to sleep, it was with him that she sought solace and protection from. It made him feel like the luckiest man alive—well, undead.
“Love you,” he murmured into her hair.
“Love . . .” she trailed off, drifting into sleep.
He turned his head to check on Margaret, chuckling when he found her rolled over onto her stomach, seeming to watch them intently. She laid her cheek down on the mattress, her eyes falling closed.
“Love my girls,” Spike said aloud, hugging Buffy tighter.
~~
Clem walked out of his bedroom just as Anya was wrestling with the pull-out couch. He helped her put it back into the frame.
“Thanks,” Anya said.
“Hey, no problem. I actually like this whole having guests thing. Changes things up a bit,” Clem said with a floppy grin.
“It's really nice of you to help Spike take care of the baby,” Anya said, taking a seat on the couch after setting the cushions down.
“Margaret's really grown on me,” Clem replied, sitting down beside her, “and Spike's been a close friend of mine for a few years now. I really didn't mind.”
Anya shrugged. “Well, I know things are different now especially with Buffy being back, but I'd love to watch Margaret, too, if you ever need a break.”
“Spike would be glad to hear that. He was scared Buffy's friends would shun the little one. I think he was even prepared to leave if anyone meant to do any harm to her. He's a great dad.”
The ex-demon nodded. “I think I would have a similar game plan if I were in his place.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I really don't feel like going home.”
Clem brightened. “Breakfast?”
Anya smiled. “Sure.” She followed the demon to the kitchen, helping as he pulled things out of the cabinets.
~~
Xander knocked on the door, grateful when Willow answered. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Willow replied, giving him a sympathetic look. “You look like poop.”
He nodded, wiping his face with his hands. “Is Ahn here by any chance?”
She shook her head. “You want some coffee?”
He shrugged, stepping past her into the house. “Sure, whatever.”
Dawn came downstairs and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. “I'm going to Spike's after school,” she announced.
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Xander asked slowly.
She shrugged, giving him a withering look. “Why wouldn't it be? I've been doing it for months. Why would it be any different now?”
“Dawnie, you were doing that right under own noses. To see Margaret, right?” Willow crossed her arms to her chest, then unfolded them, never really feeling like an authoritative figure to Dawn. At the teenager's silence, she went on, “I really don't appreciate you leaving us out like that. Something could've hap--”
“Spike has been with me the entire time. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me,” Dawn protested. “I'm happy that you guys have been looking after me, and that you bring me to school, Xander, but Spike has been helping, too. Even Tara noticed that he isn't doing evil things anymore. I think we should be giving him more credit.”
Xander snorted. “Give a soulless vampire credit? Dawnie, you should know better than this. You're the Slayer's little sister--”
She stopped him with a challenging look. “And where's my sister right now?”
He grew quiet, averting his gaze and finishing the rest of his coffee. “Well, you ready to head off to school?”
Willow watched them leave, worrying her bottom lip. She jumped when the phone rang, running to answer it. “Hello?”
“How's Buffy doing?” Angel.
The redhead sighed. “I don't know.”
“The Hellmouth?”
“She's started patrolling again, I think. Nothing major,” Willow said, her frustration mounting. “You calling about anything in particular?”
“A little confused, I think,” Angel admitted.
“Boy howdy,” she agreed. “Do you want me to ask Buffy to call you back? She... hasn't been home. But maybe next time I see her?”
“Yeah. I appreciate it.”
Willow hung up the phone, more unnerved than before. She decided to go to the Magic Box and see if she could find Anya for Xander. Only Giles was in, unpacking some boxes.
“Need some help?” Willow asked, wringing her hands.
Giles only nodded, still unable to wholly process just what Willow had been up to the past couple months.
“Has Anya been around?”
He shook his head. “She didn't come in this morning, which is unlike her. However, with everything that's happened, I wouldn't be surprised if she needed a break.”
She bit her lip as she opened another cardboard box. “Do you want me to tag these?”
“Yes, please. The prices and item numbers are listed on that paper on the counter.”
Willow got some twine and rectangular price tags from a drawer behind the counter. They worked quietly for several minutes, the atmosphere still quite tense.
“Willow,” Giles muttered, her name seeming to tumble clumsily from his lips.
The redhead wasted no time in bursting into tears.
“Willow, look at me,” Giles told her. When her teary green eyes met his, he sighed. “I am awfully... Willow, you should have told me about this.”
“I couldn't,” she sobbed.
“We were all still grieving, but I thought that we were dealing with things healthily until... well, until all this happened. I think we've all sort of spilled apart, dealing with our grief in our own ways, some more... extreme than others--”
“Giles, I... don't feel sorry,” Willow admitted, wiping the tears from her face.
“I can see that you're not,” he said coldly. “Have you stopped to think, though, about what repercussions these dark magicks could bring upon us? I am confident that you know well enough what karma is in relation to witchcraft, and whether it can help or harm. Willow, I need you to know that the use of any kind of magick has repercussions. You do know that, don't you? I've at least taught you that?” At Willow's tense silence, he went on, “Perhaps it is not too late for you to seek advice from me. I cannot lie—I, too, am happy to see Buffy alive. But at what cost? Her own happiness? Is her safety at stake? Is ours? We cannot predict what may happen because of your and the others' actions, or what already has. But I need to know now that if or when something does, you will confide in me so that we can fix this together, not because I don't believe you can do it yourself but because you shouldn't have to ever have to deal with things on your own. You are among friends, Willow. Reach out if you must.”
Willow remained silent, her eyes swollen from the tears she'd shed. She finished tagging the items in the box she'd opened before preparing to leave.
“Thanks, Giles,” she said softly before ducking out the door.
~~
“I should go get some of the clothes Whistler dumped in your crypt,” Buffy said, brushing Margaret's hair with a soft bristle brush. “Dawn and I had a lot of hair like this when we were babies. I think my hair was past my shoulders by the time I was two.”
“I'll go with you.”
“We should check with Clem if he's staying in.”
“I could,” Anya said, popping up in their doorway. “I was eavesdropping, obviously. Clem was talking about a round of kitten poker that he got invited to tonight.”
Spike and Buffy looked at one another.
“The guy could use a break,” Spike admitted. “Before you were around, luv, Em basically had two dads.”
Buffy grinned. “Yeah, let's give Clem a break. Anya, you really don't mind? We wouldn't be long. But if you're hungry or anything, we could stop at the store...wait. Do I even have money? I have to stop by the house and--”
“You don't,” Anya said bluntly. “Well, you do. Your dad has been sending sympathy checks to Dawn, and Giles has been overseeing that she put most of it in a bank account under both their names.”
The Slayer paused. “I remember my mom still making mortgage payments on the house. Shit. Does anyone open my mail?”
Anya shrugged. “I didn't really care enough to ask,” she said a little guiltily.
She looked at Spike. “We'll have to stop by the house, too.”
“Niblet'll probably be here straight after school – s'habit. We can ask 'er if someone's been handlin' the mail an' such.”
Buffy sighed. “Alright. I guess I'll wait until Dawn gets here and we'll walk her home, and I'll get the lowdown from... someone.”
When Dawn arrived, she finished her homework and played with Margaret before Clem showed Anya how to put the little one down for a nap. At sundown, Spike and Buffy walked Dawn down to Revello Drive. The older Summers girl mentioned the mortgage bill.
“I didn't even know about the mortgage bill,” Dawn remarked, feeling sorry she couldn't help her sister out more. “Buff, if you want, I can get a job after school and help you with bills...”
“Dawnie, no. That's not necessary. I mean, you could get a job if you wanted, but not to contribute to household stuff. Having big responsibilities when you're a teenager? Major suckage. I know you remember me going through it, but I don't want you to have to if you can help it.”
When they walked through the door, they saw Willow and Tara sitting in the kitchen across from one another, looking as though they were having an intense discussion. The witches looked up, Willow giving them an apprehensive smile while Tara's was more genuine.
“Hey,” Willow said timidly. “What's the what?”
“How's Emmie?” Tara asked Spike.
“Great,” he replied with a grin. “Teethin', the poor thing. Taken to nibblin' my fingers.”
Tara laughed. “You know they have bite rings for that, right?”
“I was actually wondering if you've saved up my mail,” Buffy told Willow. “I remember my mom having mortgage payments and stuff like that, and I'm sure there's the electric and garbage and water bill... Has anyone been paying those off?”
Willow and Tara glanced uncomfortably at Spike. He cleared his throat.
“Well, luv, I've been payin' the utilities.”
Her eyes widened. “What? With what?”
He shrugged. “I'm pretty old. I've got a lot of savings...” he trailed off.
“Spike!” she gasped. “As soon as I get a job you're gonna stop doing that. But... thank you.” She glanced at the redhead. “But the mortgage?”
“I saved up some letters,” Willow said. “I'm not sure what I was gonna do with them. Maybe some of them are from the mortgage company.” She went upstairs to fetch them.
Buffy paled when she saw that the pile Willow was carrying was more than two inches thick. She took it from her, ripping open the first one in the stack. A four figure number glared up at her, bold and red. She took a deep breath and slowly put the pile down. “I... Gotta get a job.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Author's note: I am sooooo sorry! So much has happened and I moved to California and then I couldn't find a job and I didn't have internet and had to move back in with my mother who lives 3,000 miles away *takes a deep breath* But I'm back now and will be updating regularly once again! Hope you guys are still with me!
Chapter End Notes:
TBC