Giles had finally pinned Buffy down for a talk - and just in time, since his flight was in two days. It wasn't like Giles wanted to have the conversation anymore than Buffy did, but he had to go. His Slayer needed to be jerked back into reality and he needed to draw on the strength of the Council regarding this Demon Lord. Not to mention that while he was there, Giles could continue to lobby for extending a stipend to Buffy. He wanted her to learn financial responsibility, but realistically there wasn't much in the bank to learn it with. Then there was the matter of Willow... and her very unsettling relationship with magical power, which Giles desperately wanted to discuss with the Devon Coven. All in all, England was the place to be right now. He just hoped Buffy could understand that.

Buffy listened gravely as he laid out these reasons for his departure - leaving out the stipend, he didn't want to get her hopes up - and then was quiet, her back to the brick wall of the training room.

"I am sorry to leave you," Giles said again, to break the silence. He'd grown to dread Buffy's flatness. It was all the worse for her occasional moments of energy, because you never knew now when this Buffy would show up to stonewall you.

"So... don't," Buffy said. Her words were slow, full of effort. "Can't you... do all the telling and consulting from here?"

"No, Buffy," Giles said, trying to be patient. "Tele-communications are not immune to magical spying, and I have no wish to alert the Demon Lord that this Watcher is aware of his or her presence. My return to England is innocuous enough - I was considering it before Spike's revelation in any case."

"You were-?" Buffy broke in.

"And," continued Giles, "I am very concerned about Willow, as should you be, and I want to put in a formal request to the Coven. That must be done in person."

"You were thinking of leaving before?" Buffy persisted. Giles felt a familiar twinge of frustration that Buffy was not engaging with him on Willow's behavior.

"Yes, I was. I have my own life in London, and I can't be around to fix everything forever. Better now than later, when you've come to depend on my intervention - as with Dawn, for example!"

"I already depend on you..."

"I know, my girl, and I love you very much. But I've made up my mind."

"Of course you have," Buffy said, showing a spark that Giles now regretted wishing for. "You always do! You make up your mind about what is best for me before even asking - or you just don't care to think about it. Your life in London and your Council of stodgy old men is more important?!"

"That is not fair," Giles responded, hurt. "I do ask you questions, but you've barely been communicating with anyone the past week. If you want us to know what you want, you have to say something about it. That's a basic fact of maturity, Buffy, and I am leaving so you can learn it, among other things."

Buffy deflated, as fast as she'd gone on the offensive. "Leaving without letting me have a real say in it... seems like a pattern with the men in my life. My dad, Angel, Riley, now you. I don't know why I'm surprised."

Giles was startled. He'd never thought about that progression in Buffy's life, and now it seemed painfully obvious. He in no way wished to be on THAT list of males.

"I understand, Buffy" he tried. "But I will come back, and unlike those... fellows, I will not cut off contact with you. You will hear from me, and I won't be gone forever." Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "And Buffy - as far as men - Xander isn't going to leave any time soon... and if we're being honest-" Giles couldn't believe he was going to say it, but, "neither is Spike."

"Great," said Buffy. "A klutz obsessed with his ex-demon fiancee and a vampire with highly questionable morals."

"That is unkind," chided Giles. "Xander loves you very much, and Anya is not an unwelcome source of knowledge to the group." The Watcher paused, decided he had to be fair, despite again being a little internally incredulous at himself. "While I don't recommend trusting Spike, his morals seem somewhat consistent when it comes to keeping his promises to you. Which includes aiding you. It is truly spectacular that he went to The Three on your behalf."

"Really?" Buffy seemed interested again.

"Again, Buffy, I don't condone letting Spike too close, but I must admit that my opinion of Spike has improved. And yes, his visit to The Three is in no small part responsible. He could have lost a great deal - they have been known to take anything from a limb to sanity to memories in payment - and it seems as though he never hesitated. He was proactive on your behalf, and I suggest that you appreciate that."

"I do," said Buffy, a little too warmly for Giles's comfort.

"Ah - but," he added hastily, "Spike is still a vampire, and his love for you is still very unsettling. You must always been sure to never encourage those feelings. And keep in mind that without the chip, he could return to being quite a threat. Allow him to help you, but keep him at arms length, Buffy."

"Yeah, I know," Buffy sighed.

"I have to go," Giles said, checking his watch after a moment. "There are some things I still must do before I leave."

"Of course," said Buffy. "Thanks for deciding that telling me you were leaving was one of them. Glad I rate so high on that list."

Her bitterness was back, and Giles decided he could do no more for now. He stood up, kissed his Slayer on the forehead, and left.

***************

Spike was dozing when Buffy came into his crypt. It had been almost a week since he'd come back from the desert, and he was still embarrassingly weak. He was sleeping a lot, and apart from the occasional foray out for cigarettes and blood, he was mostly keeping to himself. Two nights back he'd gone on an information run, but all he'd gleaned was that this Demon Lord was quiet and slow. Not too many seemed to even know a Lord was in town, and nobody had a clue as to why. From the comfort of his crypt, Spike had looked into possible oncoming potential for Apocalypse - prophecies, planets aligning, what have you - and saw none in Sunnydale's near future. Luckily, on that information run, Spike had managed to borrow some books on demon history from one of the scholarly, rather pleasant Cha'toth demons before they left town. Can't keep records if you risk sticking around, he guessed.

While some demon history was fascinating, looking for possible Demon Lord similarities was painstaking business. Spike had ensconced himself in his chair with a nice generous glass of bourbon, and between comfort and tedious reading the vampire dropped right off. Which was how Buffy came to find him, head back and leather-bound book flopped open in his hand.

"You look positively grandfatherly, Spike, " Buffy said by way of greeting. Spike jerked awake, sending the book to the floor. "It's kind of weird."

"Well, I am wise and dignified," Spike forced himself to stand up and prowl over to the Slayer. "And old... but certainly not infirm - although, if you'd care to check...?"

"Come on, Spike, do you have to go there right away?" Buffy complained.

"You started it," he retorted.

"Ok, ok," Buffy said, and sort of looked away. She started wandering around his crypt, and as always Spike wasn't sure what she was after. He hoped she wasn't going to ask him to go patrol, since he didn't want to fall on his face and make an idiot out of himself.

"Er..." he began, and then cut himself off. Buffy'd get around to it eventually without his help.

"Can I just... hang out here for a little while?" she finally asked, turning back towards him.

"Anytime, pet," Spike answered, relieved and pleased. He hadn't seen Buffy for a week, wanted to let her get her bearings. Plus he wanted her to come after him, in any case; it was her turn to acknowledge she wanted to be around him.

As if his thoughts pulled it out of her, Buffy said reluctantly, "I finished a patrol and I didn't want to go home. I hadn't seen you since... you told us about the Demon Lord and..."

Spike waited for her to finish for a moment, but realized she wasn't going to make the effort.

"Well, I don't have a lot more that I've learned about our new friend," Spike ventured. Buffy made no response and sat down in the chair he'd just vacated.

"This is comfy." Buffy seemed surprised. "Can I have a sip of this, what is it?"

"Euh, bourbon, love," said Spike. "Take a sip but don't get drunk on me again. I don't think I'm ready for it."

"Sheesh, Spike, that was your fault anyway," Buffy said, taking a swallow of liquor and making a face. "You were my... encourager? What's that word?"

"Enabler, I think you mean," Spike sat at Buffy's feet, and rested his head on the recliner, deliciously close to her knee.

"That," confirmed Buffy. "You enabled me last time. So don't complain!"

"I wasn't complaining, my dove. Merely being practical about my limitations at the moment. Carrying you home is a little out of the question for me yet."

"What do you mean? Not that... I want you to, or - yuck. Whatever."

"I'm not quite back in tippy top condition," Spike said, smirking a little to himself. He loved when she gave away little kernels like that.

"Really, Spike?" Buffy asked, and the vampire didn't think he was imagining the note of concern in her voice. "It's been a whole week. Are you... getting better at all?"

"Yes, yes, pet, I'm not metaphysically poisoned or any such nonsense. It just takes it out of you, being the delivery boy for such as the Three."

"Giles-" Buffy paused, and swallowed. "Giles told me that it was a really big deal, you going to see them. He said the payment could've been big, even your sanity."

"Ah - yep, The Three are... well they are in a position to charge as they like." Spike was trying to tread carefully. He wanted her grateful, of course he did, but he also didn't want to make her uncomfortable right now. Something was bothering her, and the sooner he put her at ease the sooner she'd let herself share it.

"I..." Buffy seemed almost shy, a strange, strange thing for Spike to witness. "I said thank you. And I am. I mean, I am thankful. But - um - I think if I had to choose, I'd want you with your mind - I mean, evil and terrible as it is - uh, your mind intact. Instead of this fancy protection thing. I don't even know that it's working."

A warmth went through Spike. He wanted to wrap his arms around Buffy for that - even Dru hadn't seemed to much care whether or not his head was right. Buffy... wanted him as himself. Like he wanted her. Resisting the urge to let his head slide onto her knee, the vampire said lightly "I was hoping more they'd go for the limb, meself. But turns out we're all ducky and they didn't want a blessed thing. And it'll work - you can bet on that. Just hasn't had a reason yet."

Buffy was silent. They sat there, comfortable companions. Whatever Buffy was worried about was still fermenting inside her, but Spike let himself enjoy the stillness between them. It wasn't always tension and fights for him and his girl. Although sometimes, his philosophical side wondered if the history of verbal and physical violence between them was actually what made this possible, now.

Eerily mirroring his thoughts again, Buffy said eventually, "You've been around for a long time, now, Spike. I think... I wouldn't want you to go."

He felt the tension in her going up at that last phrase, so Spike reassured. "I've got no plans to go anywhere, pet. ‘Specially not when a big bad is looming."

"You'll tell me, right?" Buffy said, still tense. "If you decide to... what's your phrase, bugger off, for good?"

"Yes, pet, of course. You could hardly avoid me telling you. But I'm not, so I won't," the vampire reasoned. "I'm not like the strong and silent Peaches." The moment it was out of his mouth, Spike winced. Probably the wrong thing to say, bugger it.

"No, you're not," Buffy said, a little upset. Spike figured he'd better backpedal and cast about for what to say, but suddenly Buffy came out with it. "Giles left."

"What?" Spike asked, completely unprepared. "Watcher left again? Thought he'd never let you out of his sight... after -"

"Yeah." Buffy's words caught on the hurt in her throat. "He went back to England yesterday." Spike waited. There was more, he knew it. "He said he needed the Council's brainpower or whatever to deal with the Demon Lord. And he wanted to see some convent of witches or something, about Willow. Because she's not herself anymore either, all she wants is magic and Tara back. He said he couldn't do all that from Sunnydale..." She trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Spike offered.

"It's not up to you to be sorry," Buffy said, voice rising. "I told him - I told him all the men I care about leave me behind without discussing it with me. My dad, Angel, stupid Riley, now Giles. And I - I - he didn't even try to deny it." She had started to cry, and Spike's heart ached for her. Bloody bastards, not knowing what they had in her - what idiots. Risking it, Spike lifted his head and snuck his hands up to put them over hers. She let him, but with her hands totally still.

"He didn't deny it," Buffy repeated, "but he told me... he told me that you and Xander weren't going anywhere. That you were... consistent... and helpful..."

Spike was surprised to hear old Rupert actually giving him some credit. The librarian must have been pretty troubled by Buffy's list of disappearing men to let THAT admission out. He was sure it was coupled with warnings about him, but still. Not bad on the Watcher.

"Buffy." Spike let his head fall back onto the recliner and ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands. "I'm not going anywhere. If you don't know by now that I'm going to be there whenever you need me, maybe that California blonde is going to your head."

Buffy gave a soupy laugh and withdrew one of her hands to wipe her eyes. "I hate blonde jokes," she said without annoyance.

"Ah, love, don't hate them. They're just proof of your superiority, when someone tries to tell you you're a ditz. Besides, I'm a blond by choice, what does that say?"

"It says you have terrible fashion sense," Buffy said, but there was no sting in her words. They sat there, one of Buffy's hands still holding onto Spike's. Then, impossibly, Spike felt a tentative touch on his head and went still inside. Was he hallucinating - tenderness, affection? But undeniably, he felt slender fingers working themselves into his hair, stroking his head.

"It's softer than I thought," said Buffy, dreamily.

Spike could make no response. He was adrift, could barely think. The time stretched out, Buffy's hand gentle and warm on his head and Spike slowly letting himself believe it. A series of images with Buffy came to him as he began to doze again: quiet and peaceful at times, playful and bright other times, and always, Spike fighting alongside her, with her, for her.

***************

One of Buffy's motives in going to visit Spike had been to fall asleep with him, so when she woke up curled up in his recliner she wasn't too disoriented. As she'd hoped, no nightmares. She let herself wake up slowly, the knowledge of the blanket over her coming on first, then the feeling of a crick in her neck, then the realization that Spike was asleep in her lap. THAT was unexpected, and Buffy had to keep herself from jerking and pushing him off. She didn't really want to push him off, but the idea of being close to Spike had been a no-no for so long the reflexes were still there. Probably they were right, she knew - it was still a no-no to be like this with Spike. But she couldn't find revulsion in her anywhere, this morning. He had been such a good listener, sincere and calming. Again, Buffy felt more rested than in a while. And with his arm splayed out across her lap, head resting in the curve of his elbow, he just looked like a man. A handsome, trustworthy man with no history of blood or rape or murder.

Buffy couldn't help it - she shuddered, a little, both from the memories of the old Spike and from her desire for them to go away. At the movement, the object of her thoughts stirred a little, murmuring gibberish, and snuggled deeper into her lap. Unthinking, Buffy put out her hand to pet his head, and stopped herself. What WAS that? She had been playing with his hair last night, when they hadn't felt the need to keep talking. It was - nice, she admitted to herself, but that intimacy with Spike was definitely NOT on the approved list of ways to discourage Spike from being in love with her. It was probably on another list full of frowny faces and admonishments about keeping her distance from sexy vampires, blah blah blah. Buffy should probably be going anyway, it was a Saturday morning and Dawn would be sad if she wasn't there for breakfast... not to mention Willow would ask prying questions that ended in a cross-examination about whether or not Buffy had felt any effects from Spike's protection spell. Or tears about Tara, that was always a possibility too.  

Buffy began trying to get up without waking Spike. A silly idea, but she did want the guy to recover his strength. She was getting antsy about this Demon Lord and wanted Spike back in action. Plus, she didn't know what she would say to him. "Hey Spike, we were just acting as if we'd been together for years, but I'm gonna go back to my real life and you should probably not expect that ever again?" Probably not. Mean, and didn't want to be mean. And maybe not true, because even if she didn't want to admit it, that was the best night she'd had since before she died.

Of course, Spike woke up mid-extrication process. He gave Buffy a boyish smile still full of sleep and she felt a little twist in her midsection. Hastily, she got herself out of the chair and backed away from it til she stepped on a book. Grateful for the prop, she bent down to get it and when she straightened Spike was standing in front of her.

"Off so soon?" he drawled.

"Uh, yeah. Gotta get home to Dawn, breakfast and stuff."

"Ah, the Niblet. Right. Not like you and I could go to a coffeehouse or Denny's for nosh anyways."

"Yeah, no, flamey flamey." Buffy was distracted by a brief image of having civilized biscotti and cappuccinos with Spike. She smiled a little, and Spike smiled foolishly back.

This was just too weird. Buffy seized on the book in her hand, and thrust it out towards Spike, breaking the moment. "What is this? Not exactly Passions, is it?" A thought occurred to her and she looked down, horrified. "Oh god, is it Passions? One of those TV-turned book novels?"

Spike laughed. "No, no, I don't know that novels like that exist for Passions. Would still read it if it did and no lip from you, please." He took the book from Buffy as she made a face. "This is demon history, borrowed it off a professor-type demon. Reading for habits of Demon Lords. Anything to try to figure out why ours is here, what his or her plan is."

"Oh..." Buffy felt like the very words "Demon Lord" threw an iron cape of responsibility around her shoulders. "I guess I've been trying not to think about that. Which is bad. Bad Buffy." She shrugged. "There's just so much other stuff to think about. Like Dawn. And Willow, although I don't really understand what's up with her. And money. Oh, god, money." Buffy felt like she was going to cry. "Spike, I have to go."

She made for the door of the crypt, but Spike caught her hand. Buffy turned back, right into Spike's lips, as he put his other hand on the small of her back and pulled her into him. Buffy's inner Giles was horrified, but the rest of her just - gave in, happily. Spike's mouth was impossibly warm and soft, and his body felt lean and perfect against hers. He didn't run his hands all over her like the other men she'd kissed, and there was something even sexier about the firm, decisive presence of his hand on her back. And his mouth - his mouth was insistent, amazing. Every time Buffy started to come back to herself, Spike changed the angle of the kiss, or nipped at her bottom lip, or flicked his tongue just a little over hers. She moaned, and then Spike's hands did move, one sliding to cup her ass and the other tangling itself in her hair. Little shocks of limb-weakening arousal began pulsing between her legs, into her stomach, lust so intense it could have been nausea. And then - Spike stopped. His erection was obvious again - another burst of heat went through Buffy - and he was grinning. 

"Something to take your mind off it all," Spike said, looking very pleased with himself.

Buffy wanted to say - anything, really, but he was right. She couldn't think, she wanted to keep kissing him but wasn't about to let him win, so she settled for stumbling out into the sunshine. Her subconscious took over and propelled her towards home, while two thoughts chased each other like kittens in her head. Why did Spike stop, and why did she want to keep going?