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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Attention! I was reviewing this chapter on December 22nd and realized there was a middle part missing, right after the first "***" and before the sentence "They fell asleep" and I am so annoyed at myself for missing it. I just added the missing part now. If you are rereading this chapter I hope you see this, but I will put it in the next chapter's notes as well. I apologize for this mistake!
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"Why haven't I felt any withdrawal pains since you moved in?"

The abrupt question distracted him from dicing onions. Spike set down the knife and turned his back on the cutting board. "Because I'm here," he explained. "I'm in your home. Even when you go to work, your heart and the claim both know you'll come back to me, and I'll be waiting."

Which had been the case for two weeks now. Two weeks since he had insisted he watch over her while Darla was in town. Two weeks of keeping the curtains shut during the daytime. One week since Spike moved his entire wardrobe into the closet that had once been Buffy's little sister's. Six days since Spike started cooking dinner every night he got to the stove before Buffy did, and Darla started making sure she herself had plenty of errands to run, ninety percent of which Buffy was sure were made up. Five days since Willow had noticed a hickey high up on Buffy's neck that was forgotten by makeup application. Four and a half days of avoiding her boss at work, for the redhead had a plucky drive of curiosity. And one day since Buffy allowed herself to finally admit that Spike was here to stay.

She blew out a breath, and chewed her lower lip. She still wasn't sure whether Spike moving in was the wisest decision of the year, but she couldn't help she wanted him here. She couldn't stop missing him while she was at work, or that she rushed home every day just to see him. The kisses had escalated, but remained of a comfortable, if not frustrating, touch-and-go variety.

She'd finally told Spike that he could bring everything he wanted here, into the house. It was slowly becoming theirs, even if the deed was in her name. He wasn't sleeping in her bedroom yet, but his old place was completely vacated of his possessions as of yesterday.

From the moment she'd gathered all the courage within herself to tell him he could "officially" move in a week ago, Spike had treated her like an angel. Well, he almost always did so, but after she'd given him the green light to bring books, a chest that held numerous weapons, a mini-fridge and an old portable TV into the house, he'd been particularly giving.

The following morning, she'd woken up to the smell of fresh bacon and pancakes. He'd made her breakfast. A sleepy-eyed vampire had stood in her kitchen at eight in the morning flipping flapjacks.

Her life was surreal. He'd draped dark pillowcases over the thin curtains that barely shielded the windows, and squeezed her fresh orange juice to go with her meal, plus coffee. Then, he'd sat down to talk with her while she ate, smiling like a loon as she thanked him, complimented his culinary skills, and tried to keep herself from swooning.

He'd remained the same in every way since she let him stay. However, Spike wasn't demanding in the slightest anymore when it came to the claim. He was comfortable in the house, hardly a nuisance roommate-wise, and incredibly nice to look at. Buffy believed she had made the right choice by letting him move in, it was just her reasonably nervous heart that told her she might be wrong.

The decision did get Darla on her case about finalizing the claim. "Just commit, already. This isn't the Bachelorette, and if it was, Spike would kill off his competition. You may as well just take what you want," she'd once said.

Buffy rolled her eyes at the memory. Her whole life was Spike centric; the least her best friend could do was distract her from the concept of a supernatural marriage to a supernatural being. But no, Darla was a vampire herself, and encouraged Buffy to go ahead and make with the bitey bonding.

She didn't need encouragement. She needed solid ground.

Of course, the steadiest platform she could receive, in life and in a man, looked to be Spike.

Buffy frowned as she watched him throw a bunch of chopped vegetables into a pan of already steaming garlic. Noodles boiled in a pot to the right, and the whole kitchen smelled delicious. He was an enigma. She never would have guessed he'd be the kind to cook, especially considering he didn't eat human food. All Spike needed was blood, and still he played chef because her body required sustenance of a different sort.

He was thoughtful, caring, protective; intelligent, vigilant and cocky. Rash, demanding, patient, impatient. The vampire was a ludicrous combination of blazing emotions and consideration; a lover teamed with a greedy demon. She couldn't have imagined being tied to someone like him before she'd met him. Perhaps, that was because she never could have dreamt up such a person.

"Love?" Spike asked, "You want to grab me the chili pepper?"

A wave of domestication hit her; she located the spice and brought it to his side. He leaned down and kissed her softly, lingeringly on the lips, before taking the little shaker from her hands. "Thank you."

*An enigma, alright,* she thought, and rested her head against his shoulder as he stirred things.

***

It was Saturday night when Buffy picked up the ringing telephone. "Hi, Faith."

"How'd you know it was me?" The chipper lady replied.

"You always call me between six and eight on Saturdays."

"Hmm. Didn't know consistency was a talent I had."

Buffy smiled. "So, how've you been?"

"Five by five," she answered predictably. "How does a night of dancing and making guys drool sound, B?"

Buffy threw a glance towards the living room, where the sounds of a cop TV show murmured in the distance; Spike was waiting for her to return. "Sorry, but tonight's no good."

"Oh jeez, c'mon Buffy you haven't come out in forever. The Bronze is beginning to miss your freaky dance moves."

She smiled. "I'm sorry, Faith. Something's kind of come up."

"He better be hot."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why do you think there's a guy?"

"There're only a few things I connect with the word 'up.' "

"Well, it isn't that. I-"

"So there isn't a guy?"

"No, there is one, but he-"

"Well, when do I get to meet this hunk of sexiness that's keeping you home on the weekends?"

Buffy sighed. "Soon. But it's... it's kind of serious, and Dawn doesn't even know about him yet."

"So bring him out. I don't mind being the third wheel."

It might have been a good plan if Buffy weren't suddenly hit with a strong possessive desire to keep Spike at home, with her, all to herself. She was more than happy to stay in and watch TV on a Friday night, and the idea of going out dancing- while always one of her favorite pastimes -just didn't entice at the moment.

Buffy didn't wig out anymore over the emotions she kept on feeling towards him; they were getting stronger every day, but had quit scaring her so much at some indefinable point.

Still, she felt a little guilty for choosing time with the vampire over Faith's Bronze idea. Buffy said, "I'm just not in the mood tonight, and I don't know if he would be. We've kind of settled in front of the TV."

"Oh god, you've let him domesticate you!"

"Calm down, Faith," she chuckled. "We're just trying to spend time together alone... figure some things out, ya know?"

"Yeah, yeah. Well, tell this guy that I want my friend back."

Buffy grinned. Talking to Faith about guys always seemed like one of the easiest things in the world. The woman had a man's mentality a lot of the time, and she hardly ever made a big deal about new boyfriends or flings. "Hey," Buffy said brightly, "What if Darla joined you tonight?"

"Darla? Is she back in town? I thought she was in China or something."

"That was a while back. She's visiting; as a matter of fact, she just extended her stay. I think she's headed home from shopping for extra clothes right about now. I bet she'll be up for some Bronze-ing."

"Sweet! I missed that she-devil. When does she leave?"

"The date is undefined."

"Great. Does she have a cell phone on her?"

"No, but I'll-"

The topic of conversation walked through the front door just then, three heavy bags weighing down her arms. Dropping her key, the vampire sighed. Her shopping bags followed the tiny metal object to the ground, and Darla shouted, "I appreciate Sunnydale's mall being open late on a weekend, but you'd think there would be better customer service! I swear to God, this one guy was so rude- I should've eaten him."

Buffy quickly covered the phone with her hand and prayed Faith had lower than average hearing capabilities. "Hang on, she just walked in," she squeaked.

She ran into the front hall and said, "I don't think Faith's going to want to see you if she thinks you'll say hello by biting her, Darla."

The vamp's eyes bugged, shooting from Buffy to the phone. "Damn. Sorry."

"I don't think she heard," Buffy said thankfully, "but you can't come in bellowing like that."

"Excuse me, I don't bellow."

"No, she shrieks like a bleeding banshee."

"Can it, Spike," Buffy admonished. Billy-Idol-of-the-Undead was leaning against the living room archway now. "Just don't mention vampire related stuff without checking out what's going on in the house first, okay Darla?"

"Fine," she agreed haughtily, then extended her hand. "Can I speak to Faith now?"

Buffy gave her the phone, a grin on her lips as she picked up the fallen key and set it on the table to her left, before grabbing the shopping bags. She brought them into the dining room and felt Spike follow while Darla chatted on the phone.

Buffy set the lady's purse aside before delving into the goodies. A couple pairs of pants, a sundress, two tops, and a set of earrings made her findings. Buffy had just finished admiring and putting everything back when Darla hung up the phone.

"Well, I guess you two will have the house to yourselves tonight. Faith and I are going out." She picked the bags up off the table. "I'm taking a shower before I get ready. I should be down by the time she gets here." She turned around to leave, but said one last thing before heading upstairs. "Maybe you guys could put this privacy to good use."

***

They fell asleep. The couch was quite comfortable, after all; even more so when you had a sexy man acting as your pillow, or a beautiful woman as your blanket.

Buffy's head was lying on Spike's arm, and had he been alive she'd be cutting off circulation. He slept soundly while the television murmured noises and voices no more than seven feet away, Buffy's body lax and curled trustingly on top of his.

The two mates lie in peaceful slumber, and it was well past midnight before either of them stirred.

Heat. A truly delightful heat tingled at Spike's fingertips, and soft breathing landed on his neck, teasing him awake.

His hands clenched around her when he opened his eyes. Buffy's petite frame was snuggled against him, and she was sound asleep. Her head rested heavily on his shoulder. Spike didn't want to move, but more than that he didn't want Darla waking Buffy up when the she-vamp returned from her evening out.

Buffy was naturally a night-owl, especially on the weekends, he had learned. She never went to bed before she had to. Currently, however, she was sleeping as deeply as one could, and they'd both dozed off probably within the last two or so hours. If she was tired enough to be out before twelve, he didn't want anything disturbing her.

Very carefully, Spike dragged himself up and climbed from the couch, watching every long limb of his mate's to be sure she didn't fall. Then, he gently picked her up and carried Buffy to the stairs.

He could vault them one at a time, and as nimbly as a light cat. However, he didn't like to chance dropping the woman in his arms, and he enjoyed looking at her. By the time they'd reached the top of the steps, Buffy's nose had twitched once and her mouth moved with a sleepy mumble, but she was still out.

She burrowed deeper against his cold chest, breathing life into him with the trust she exhibited. His head felt very light, like someone had managed to fill it with helium, as he entered her bedroom and set her down.

Loathe to leave her, Spike tucked the sheet he saw in the darkness around her bare shoulders and left a small quilt over her knees and feet. Slowly, like the sun into the ocean, he descended and stretched out, making no more noise than a reflection.

He gently wrapped an arm around her, and sighed when she moved closer to him.

And he watched her. Like a man watches the clock while his wife is in the delivery room, or a woman awaiting their sailor's return watches the sea; Spike watched Buffy like he was waiting for her.

And he was, every minute of every second. There was always a new laugh to be released for her wit, or a snarky quip to be heard or given. He was quickly becoming addicted. Her smiles were alive in ways he could never be, except for when he was with her.

Spike's hold around her tightened. He heard a clock tick by in the room, and even as its pure existence told the truth and exposed evidence of the short time he had spent with Buffy Summers, he found himself in this position. He found himself already halfway through cutting wind and black clouds, meandering towards the eye of the storm.

He was falling in love again, and Spike hadn't the will to stop such a descent. He hadn't known to try the first time, and now he'd been gifted with a woman who could drown him even though he did not need air, and still he'd only gasp her name.

Spike breathed in her scent, nuzzling into a wealth of golden hair. The whole house was empty of any other creature, and he'd never been so utterly at peace before. For one clear moment, he was grateful. The Powers That Like to Inter-bloody-fere could have shacked him up with a chit he never would have grown to even like, but he'd gotten Buffy.

He couldn't wait until she let him in. He prayed for it like he might pray for the sunlight not to burn.

His fangs itched all the damn time. Going out to retrieve blood was harder when he saw people out, for his irate demon seethed inside. It understood that hurting anyone was against the rules now, but impatience warred with knowledge, and it all only aggravated his beast. But Buffy held the cards, and he was happy to have her.

A woman was ever the only way in which Spike was willing- content even -to give up power over himself. The Powers might have known that, he figured. Didn't matter why to him anymore, and never really had... because Buffy did.

***

She awoke with a flutter of lashes, and looked up at him with those big green eyes. He could tell it was hard for her to see, as the light from the four AM moon didn't do much to illuminate the room. Spike, however, could make out every expression clearly. His hand moved as if through water when he brushed hair off of her cheek, and she let out a relaxed sigh. "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we in my bedroom?"

He nodded despite her current blindness. "Moved you up here a while ago. We both fell asleep on the couch but I didn't want you to wake up so I-"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured, a soft smile coming to his lips. "Didn't want to leave. Do you mind I'm in your bed?"

She shook her head after a long few seconds, and said, "No." She snuggled closer, tugging the sheet higher for both of them. "I don't know why I woke up. I'm still tired."

Her pliant limbs wrapped about him, ankles aligned with his calves, and hands like wands that kept him immobile because he refused to muss the magic. "I just heard Darla come in." His voice was suddenly hoarse. "You might've heard her, too, or sensed it."

Buffy thought on that for a moment. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Nearly four."

She blinked wide. "That's really late, even for her. I know she's a vampire, but it's not normal for Darla to stay out until the sun comes up- Though, I wouldn't doubt Faith could have persuaded her into it." Buffy also wouldn't bet against the odds of Darla permitting time to the two mates who weren't mated yet.

"Maybe that's it then," Spike said.

"Maybe."

"You can talk to her tomorrow and find out."

"I will." Buffy moved even closer to him. "Umm... do vampires get hot? Like, does my body heat make you uncomfortable?"

Her sudden whispered question made Spike grin, though he did nothing to show it, and held in a chuckle. The warmth from her was sweet and he loved it. "No, pet, vamps don't care much about temperature."

"Okay. Good," she mumbled, then relaxed into him fully again. Slowly, the beat of her heart regained a mystifying rhythm which got every nerve ending in Spike's body humming. He felt content as her breathing blew calmly and evenly onto his throat; the restless demon inside him let out a growly yawn of defeat.

Spike's inner poet, his humanity, could lie like this forever and nothing more. No sunsets would be missed and no sunrises avoided; he wouldn't care enough to remember such things existed. With Buffy in his arms, the world melted away and Spike didn't try to hang onto it.

However, his vampire nature, while calmed, was still wildly avid and focused. It was never wholly satisfied and wouldn't be until Buffy was officially his. Spike believed the demon side of him was falling for the woman, but demons loved differently than men.

To love one's mate was the truest luck. Not every vampire found their other half and nothing could guarantee love, not even a claim. However, right now, Spike's demon quieted. His gums quit burning as the unbeating heart lying inside his dead chest took its first breath.

It had waited so long to feel like this.

***

The sound of rain woke her up later on. She half dreamed about sitting in a moving car, droplets hitting the rooftop. She had been riding in the backseat, hair and a set of shoulders the only thing she could see of the driver. She knew it was her father in that unquestionable way dreams permitted, a sign of proof they were in fact yours. Then, she'd realized it was his old Audi they rode in. The storm outside the smudgy windows seemed louder than her own voice, but she couldn't be sure, because she hadn't spoken once in the dream before her father started to turn his head to face her, and then Buffy woke up.

She sighed, staring at Spike fixedly now, trying to shake away the dream. His eyelashes drew her focus, for they were long and dark and thick. Any girl would envy those things, and the way they shadowed his high cheekbones.

He had such a beautiful face, and thinking about the softness of his harmless expression made her ache inside. She felt the claim stir and moan, like it sometimes did, urging her to tell Spike she wanted it complete. That she wanted him.

Buffy knew she was close to doing it, too. The claim was pushy, that was true enough, and her heart seemed to be fighting with her head in underhanded ways, always making her notice the little things that Spike did for her. The vampire had a cute habit lately of washing dirty laundry before she got home from work- Not just his laundry.

Now Buffy was no dummy, and figured at least part of his motive had to do with getting a look at her undergarments; Spike could be impatient, after all. Yet still, he did her laundry when he could.

She had a protective, superhuman, gorgeous man that wasn't afraid to help out around the house. It was like she was living in a fantasy world sometimes, experiencing many women's idea of a dream.

Buffy was truly starting to see the good things that came from this fate. Before, she could think only of the choices ripped from her hands. Lately, she kept stumbling upon the feeling of indebtedness, because Spike had been the one chosen for her; she could have been stuck with anyone.

Her heart skipped when he moved. A grumble, then a lip smack, and he was quiet once more. She released a breath.

She was in deep trouble with this man, and yet, for the first time ever, Buffy found herself nearly unwilling to care.

***

The rain had gotten heavier over the hours. Birds were chirping quietly in the distance, but she could only tell after she opened the window and closed her eyes to listen. The pitter-patter of droplets on sidewalk cement and lush grass calmed her senses.

Buffy enjoyed the smell and sound of a thunderstorm. She pulled her face out of the kitchen window, smiling like a sleepy cat. She had gotten out of bed to use the bathroom, then gone downstairs to put on some coffee before heading back up to Spike.

He was still in bed, quiet and unmoving, when she got there. *Dead to the world,* she thought with a little smirk. The dim three PM light from behind the curtains crawled across the floor, only a few inches away from the window. The house was peaceful, like it was sleeping along with the vampires inside. She knew Darla wouldn't wake up for hours, but Buffy still wanted to talk to her.

Not quite as much as she wanted to crawl back into bed with Spike, though. Buffy toed off her slippers, walking to the side she had vacated ten minutes before, and slipped under the sheet. She was wide awake, but that didn't stop her from jolting when Spike murmured, "Welcome back, love."

"You were up?"

"Heard you tinkering about the kitchen."

" 'Tinkering?' Seriously?"

He pulled her closer, those bright blue eyes finally opening to stare warmly into hers. "You opened a window, that's all I know."

"Surprised you could even tell what room I was in," she mumbled.

"I don't know where you were before you made it to the kitchen. Wasn't up. Unless, of course, you went straight there after deserting me."

"I didn't desert you, Mr. Dramatic."

He smirked gently, his cheeks hollowing out just a little. "I woke up alone; think that's a perfectly reasonable way of putting it."

"I came back, so no, 'deserting' isn't a reasonable word at all."

"What would you call it?"

"Nature," she declared.

"What?"

"I had to go to the bathroom."

"Oh."

"Yeah, see," she poked him fondly, right in the chest, "no deserting."

Spike inhaled needlessly, smiling at her like maybe she was perfection, and he couldn't believe he'd found it. Her pulse did a wild, clumsy sort of dance beneath her skin before he pulled her halfway on top of his body. She felt his lips press softly to the crown of her head, and she sighed. "You're very comfy."

"Is that why you came back up here and didn't abandon me in favor of the rain?"

"Are you going to get off it, Spike?" She turned her face to see him smiling still. "You just like arguing, don't you?"

"Only with you," he quipped, though something honest settled in the creases by his eyes. "You're gorgeous when you're all fiery and riled."

She didn't know how to reply, because it was sort of a compliment. Eventually, Buffy said, "Aren't I a little prettier when I'm smiling?"

"You blind me when you're smiling."

She blinked. Her heart suddenly began doing the Macarena and all air left her lungs in a quiet rush. She could just gather her wits quickly enough to look away and thank him.

He was faster. "But a man likes a bit of variety every now and then."

Her eyes flew up and he started to laugh after she swatted him. The tension left, but fondness stayed and sidled up right next to intimacy.

"Are you still tired?" Buffy asked him.

"Not really. But I don't exactly want to leave your bed either."

So they didn't. They stayed in each other's arms and the bed for a peaceful while, no rush to go anywhere or do anything. They chatted quietly, bathed in a sense of solitude with one another; the world outside could have disappeared without either of them hearing a thing. They shared a comfort that not many people knew existed or could even understand.

Time passed and the rain remained, still pattering on the roof like an impatient visitor might knock on the door. At one point, Buffy stripped and changed into a T-shirt and cotton pajama shorts, and Spike wasn't asked to leave the room or turn away. The woman shared with herself a secret smile.

Needless to say, the kissing session which followed threatened to fog up some windows.

***

It was nearly six o'clock when Darla made her way downstairs. Buffy was in the kitchen, having a soda while reading over papers related to the auction house, and waiting for Spike to return from his blood run.

Darla's normally bright eyes and glowing appearance were dull, wilting. Purple shadows that spoke of a sleepless night stood out on the places beneath her eyes.

Buffy frowned at her friend before turning to get one of the remaining bloodbags out of the refrigerator. "Well, you look real perky. Did you and Faith drink a little too much last night?"

Darla sat on a stool by the island, muttering, "Yeah. Drank too much." She sighed. "I don't want any blood."

Buffy's brows drew together. "Last I checked, vampires weren't famous for that." She closed the fridge door and sat across from her friend. "Is something up?"

It was days like this, the calm quiet ones, where everything seemed right, that Buffy often discovered other things were going wrong. It was like the world's way of reminding her it was still around, and dreams and happiness were partners with things like despair and confusion. The Earth was bright and soft, blindingly beautiful and yet drab, too. It was a harsh and sweet place, like cinnamon paired with lemon juice. There had been a time when Buffy lost the ability to see the good things and was beaten down daily by the wrongs. Today was no longer that day, and she took life in stride. She worked to accept the good things as blessings and the bad ones as lessons; it was something her mother had tried to teach her for a very long time.

Now, looking at Darla's solemn, shying eyes, Buffy knew there was something wrong. Her heart felt like it'd been blissfully tucked away in a soft cushy bed for the good part of the day, and yet the world around her had kept moving, as it always did, and spun Darla around with it.

The vampire didn't meet her eyes, just stared down at her restless fingers. Buffy sensed now might be a good time for coffee, and rose to get it started when Darla's voice made her stop.

"After Faith and I separated last night," Darla said, "I was walking to my car, and I heard something going on in one of the alleys behind the Bronze." She paused, and Buffy noticed how her eyes suddenly appeared so incredibly gray. The possibilities of what could cause Darla's vibrancy to fade like drapes in the sun made Buffy's nerves tingle unpleasantly; she crossed her legs and settled on her stool. "I'm guessing your curiosity got the better of you?"

"You could say that," Darla replied. "I followed my instincts. I smelled blood, so I ran for it. There was a woman being drained by a vampire, squirming and fighting, and I- I didn't know what to do."

Buffy's heartbeat quickened. She was a little scared to ask for more details, but the look on Darla's face urged her nonetheless. "What happened?"

"I- I," she stuttered, swallowing down her regrets in order to relay the tale. "I grabbed a piece of wood off the ground- I think it was from a broken crate or something. And I staked him. One of my own." Confusion added itself to her pinched expression. "It felt strange, but not bad. Then the woman, she started thanking me. Like I was God or something." A bitter chuckle rose in her throat.

"She thanked you for saving her life," Buffy reiterated. "That doesn't seem like a bad thing."

"No. But then I saw her neck, and smelled the fresh blood. Before she could say another word, I was drinking it up."

Buffy's stiff silence made Darla finally look up. Shocking white, a disbelieving expression had cemented itself onto the woman's face. Darla inwardly cringed. "I didn't finish it."

"D-Didn't finish what?" Buffy swallowed hard and looked away, needlessly trying to calm her pulse. The thumping in her wrist and temples seemed to be at jackhammer speed, and it was all she could do to concentrate on her friend. Her friend who had just knocked the wind out of her with one little story.

"The woman." Darla curled her long fingers together, entwining them into a double-backed fist on the counter. "I pulled away when I realized that I was killing her. Her pulse was barely there when I ran to the hospital..."

Buffy scowled. "Hospital?"

Darla nodded. "I dropped her off. Said I found her in an alley, and I didn't know if an animal had attacked her or what." She shrugged. "Humans always buy that crap."

"Especially in Sunnydale," Buffy muttered to herself. Darla's eyes met hers in surprise; it was almost like she'd forgotten that her friend was actually in the room.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Buffy's hand fell loudly onto the countertop. It landed beside Darla's stiff fingers, and she pressed her lips together before moving her palm to rest over the cold, elegant hands.

The vampire tensed, but Buffy said, "Has something like this happened before?"

Darla's lips were pinched so harshly they appeared white. It took her a full minute to say, "I've killed people before. Before I really got a hold on this being a vampire deal."

Buffy closed her eyes as the waves ran through her; disappointment, delirious shock, anger, and some nausea. The last was the first to abate, followed by the disappointment, and then shock was the only thing left.

Darla wasn't human. Her conscience was there only for certain people, not the general public. Buffy realized that it had to have taken more than mere strength to yank herself away from the fresh blood of that innocent woman, but somehow, Darla had done it. Despite her lack of a soul, she cared about something in a way that helped her control her demon instincts.

Buffy suddenly wondered what that something might be. Darla wasn't human, but she wasn't entirely monster, either, despite having done some bad things in the past. It didn't sit well with Buffy knowing Spike might lose control, but she accepted him, accepted his monstrous past, still felt herself falling in love with him-

Her grip on Darla's hands tightened, and though the lady couldn't possibly be hurt by the hold, it drew her notice. Her gray-blue eyes looked up and rested attentively on Buffy's face. "Are you alright?"

Buffy shook her head, and glued her focus onto Darla again. Right. Darla. Almost killed somebody. Must stay on track. Comfort and try to understand; no time to worry about tethered heartstrings. "Did you call the hospital?" she managed to say.

The vampire stared at her in an acute way for a moment, then simply nodded. "Yes. The woman's fine. I remembered to check her wallet for a license before I gave her jacket to one of the nurses, so I called a little while ago and asked about her condition."

Buffy nodded her head. She stood up to... make some coffee, and do anything else that might keep her mind busy while simultaneously focused on Darla, when the she-vamp said, "I'm not ever going to be normal. I know that's disappointing."

Buffy froze, scowled as the words sunk in, and then turned around with her hands on her hips. "You're not disappointing," she said distinctly. Though she had felt that very emotion upon hearing what happened last night, Buffy would hardly call Darla disappointing. "You're smart, you're my best friend, and you're strong. God, Darla, you don't have any obligation as a vampire to ignore the demon inside you; I get that. It's hard for me to swallow sometimes, because I'm human, but I know that the world isn't black and white here."

The astonishment on Darla's face would have been amusing if Buffy wasn't trying to make a point to her. "Spike's a killer, and he doesn't regret anything he's done, and he'd still be doing it if he thought I'd be okay with it." Buffy's spine stiffened, and her chin rose as she gulped down some unsettling realizations. "He stopped because he knew I wouldn't be. He might slip up in the future, and maybe he won't. With the claim it might be easier for him to deal, I don't know. What I know is his intent. He intends not to hurt innocent people anymore, or be... villainous. That's all I can ask of him, and he made the decision to be good before I ever asked him to be."

Darla frowned, her eyes speaking messages and pleas all at once. "I'm not Spike," she said.

Buffy didn't miss a beat. "Which makes me wonder how you managed to pull back from that woman in the alley at all."
The vampire was silent, self-hatred dimming in light of her friend's words, and even acceptance. The guilt was still there, Buffy could see, but so was something else; a restoration of faith in her own abilities.

The phrase, "You're only human," abruptly came to mind, but Buffy had to smile and brush the untrue statement aside. "You're only a vampire," just didn't seem like it would make Darla feel any better, so Buffy simply asked, "Now, what about some coffee?"

Darla's eyes looked a little brighter than they had before as she nodded.

Buffy got up again to make the coffee, and Darla followed to help. It ended up that Buffy was pushed aside and Darla put the pot on, telling her to sit down and finish her soda. She had just claimed her stool once again when her friend mentioned Spike having spent the night somewhere other than Dawn's old bedroom.

"Oh, so you noticed that."

"I notice everything." She threw a look over her shoulder. "Which you should know by now."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We were just sleeping."

"You should also know by now that I'm not stupid."

There was a knock at the front door, and Buffy's laughter carried with her as she left the room to answer it. "Well, you know what they say when you 'assume' things!" she shouted back.

"And a hickey says a thousand words, just like a picture!"

Blushing red, Buffy was throwing a hand up to her decorated neck when she pulled open the front door, the sound of her footfalls suddenly coming to a dead stop. Her heart froze with the wind, and the room depleted to nothing more than a blur as her attention focused acutely, painfully, on the person standing there.

"Dad?"

____________________________
END NOTES: So I suck, and I'm sorry, I know this chapter should have been up sooner. I wanted it to be but there has been a lot of work lately with the holidays coming up, but I promise not to leave this story hanging and I really hope you people who have stuck with it this far continue to read and I also hope you enjoyed this latest update. Please let me know what you think, and thanks so much for reading! *huggles*
(P.S. I'm hoping to get another chapter up no later than in 4 weeks, but I can't promise. This time of year is so busy, and I apologize, but I will not leave this story hanging! So long as my fingers work, it will be written and will have an ending!) Happy holidays everyone!

(NOTICE-added Dec. 22, 2014) Attention! I was reviewing this chapter and realized there was a middle part missing, right after the first "***" and before the sentence "They fell asleep" and I am so annoyed at myself for missing it. I just added the missing part now. If you are rereading this chapter I hope you see this, but I will put it in the next chapter's notes, as well. I apologize for this mistake!





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