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Spike steeled himself. "No, I can't let them get away..." He started after Dru and her last remaining minion.

"No! Let them go, Spike," Buffy said tightly.

Spike stopped, surprised by the conviction in her voice; he hadn't expected her to say that, or with so much vehemence. He frowned, looking from Buffy to the door and back again. "But we shouldn't let..."

Buffy shook her head. "Please just let them go," she said, her voice sounding more tired and weaker, but not any less resolved.

It wasn't that Buffy didn't want Dru and Joshua to be dust in the wind, she was only worried about Spike -- if he went after them, he'd be outnumbered. Not that having the odds against him would normally be a problem for Spike, but he'd taken a lot of punishment this evening. He had to be running on fumes by now, which didn't improve his chances of surviving another fight -- and Dru, despite being a loony bitch, was still a Master vampire and still plenty dangerous.

Spike wasn't keen on letting his enemies live to fight another day, but he'd respect Buffy's wishes. He went to her. "Buffy... you alright?" It was a dumb question (considering what she'd been through), but it was one he had to ask, nonetheless.

Buffy was breathing hard and barely able to keep her legs under her. "I've never felt better..." she groaned, putting her left arm around him. “Please get this last chain off of me?”

“Right.” Spike looked on the ground and found the key. He picked it up and undid the last cuff. Buffy fell against him, flinging both arms around his neck as her knees buckled, unable to support her full weight.

“Easy, luv. I gotcha.” Spike put his arms around her, closing his eyes and stopping for a moment to give silent thanks to God (or whoever was running the show) for sparing Buffy’s life.

“Do you think they're really gone?” Buffy asked tiredly, resting in his embrace. She was still afraid to get too happy.

“They’re not comin' back.” Spike’s instincts told him Drusilla wouldn’t be back; that last look she’d given him was meant to be final. But he was certain that if she did come back, he wouldn't let her get away again.

Spike spotted the couch set against the wall (it had been moved there earlier to provide more room for dancing). He picked Buffy up in his arms as carefully as he could, and carried her to the couch.

Buffy held onto him and giggled, starting to hum ‘Up Where We Belong’.

Spike looked at her when set her down on the couch. “You sure you’re alright?” He didn’t like the crazy sounding giggle and humming (it reminded him too much of Dru); he hoped Buffy's mind hadn't snapped under the stress.

Buffy nodded and sighed, leaning back and resting against the couch. “I’m just feeling kinda... loopy.” She held her injured hand out. “Could you help me pop my fingers back into place? I don’t think they’re broken.”

Spike took her hand, examining and gingerly feeling her fingers to see if there were any breaks. “I don’t think they’re broken either. Brace yourself, it’s gonna hurt a bit.”

Buffy took a deep breath and nodded. Spike put her fingers back how they were supposed to be as fast as he could. Buffy clenched her teeth and groaned. She let out the breath she’d been holding and slumped against the couch cushions when Spike finished.

Buffy looked at her bleeding arms, wrists, and messed up left hand. Then she looked at Spike, cataloguing all the injuries she could see on him. His cheek was cut, his nose and mouth were bloodied, and there was a little bit of blood peeking out at his hairline. And he just looked so tired -- Buffy could relate to that, too. She snorted and smiled slightly. “Wow, if you look beat up, I can only imagine how I must look.”

“Don’t worry about how you look." Buffy was still beautiful in his eyes. Even beaten and bleeding, she had a beauty, strength, and grace that shone through and dazzled him. "Just try to relax and rest for a few minutes, then I’ll get us out of here. My car's parked out front."

Despite her pain and weariness, Buffy couldn't keep a smile off her face as she looked at him. She was seeing Spike in a whole new light after what he'd done for her tonight. What he felt for her was more than just some weird obsession or crush, he really did love her. He loved her so much that he'd gone against the woman he'd thought was his destiny, whom he had practically worshipped at one time. He gave up another shot at a life with Drusilla for Buffy, whom he thought couldn't, and wouldn't, ever return his feelings. Spike had actually done the right thing for unselfish reasons... Miracles could happen and soulless vampires could feel love.

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to just rest and gather enough strength to get up and go home. Her body ached in a hundred different places, but none of her wounds felt life-threatening.

While Buffy was taking a few minutes to regroup, Spike tried to finally relax too. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He put his hands over his face, the emotional evening was finally taking its toll on him. Tonight had been a nonstop rollercoaster ride from Hell -- he'd been up in the stratosphere one moment, and then dropped back down into a chasm the next moment, only to go back up and start all over again -- all bloody night. He'd tried to kill Dru... his beloved Drusilla, whom he'd loved and protected for a century. But he'd do it again if he had to, to protect Buffy. It didn't matter what he had to do, he'd do it if it meant Buffy would be safer.

Spike took and then released a shuddery breath, muttering quietly, "Bloody hell..."

Buffy’s eyes opened, she frowned when she saw Spike hunched over with his hands covering his face. She knew how hard what happened must have been for him. Spike had done the right thing tonight, even when he thought he’d had nothing to gain -- in fact, he'd had more to lose by taking Buffy's side. She wouldn't change the outcome, of course, but seeing him distraught tugged at her heartstrings. She leaned forward and touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

Spike sat up and raked his fingers back through his hair, wincing a little when his hands ran over bumps on his head from the crowbar attack. "Yeah... all of it is just hittin' me. This is the first time I've been able to stop and catch my breath... well, you know what I mean. It's been a helluva bloody day... for both of us."

"Do you regret the choice you made?" Buffy hoped that wasn't the reason he looked so despondent, that he was wishing he could go back and change the course of action he'd taken.

Spike frowned and shook his head adamantly, turning to the side to face her. "No. No, don't think I'm regretting it for a second, Buffy. I'd do the same thing in a heartbeat. I only regret that any of it had to happen... at all." He sighed and looked down. "It really wasn't a choice... I couldn't let that happen to you. Seeing you like that..." He stopped and swallowed hard, trying to get his emotions under control. "I couldn't stand seeing you like that, and knowing what she intended to do to you..."

He looked back up and they smiled softly at each other, then Spike sniffed and looked away. "We, uh, need to get your wrists and hand wrapped up."

Buffy looked around them for something they could use as bandages.

Spike stood up and shrugged out of his coat. Then he surprised Buffy by ripping his black t-shirt down the front and taking it off.

"What did you do that for?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Bruises dotted his torso and shoulders, and he had a bleeding slash across his stomach, but Buffy couldn't help admiring what fine shape Spike was in. Very, very fine. Even beaten and bloodied, he was beautiful.

Buffy observed that her warmer and naughtier thoughts about Spike were no longer being censored by or buried in her mind, the thoughts were flowing freely. And it felt wonderful not to be deluding herself anymore. They had been through a lot together in just the last hour; she'd seen a side of Spike that she hadn't seen before, or hadn't allowed herself to see before. There was still a lot of confusion regarding how she felt about him, but she felt so much closer to Spike. Not only that, but she thought she'd like to get even closer to him in the future -- and now it was okay for her to feel that way.

Spike sat back down and ripped a strip of material from his t-shirt. "I need to make some bandages, and I don't see anything else 'round here I can rip up."

"Ah, okay. I thought you just wanted an excuse to rip off your shirt to show off your fabulous bod," Buffy said with a teasing smile.

Spike smiled and looked down at his bruised and cut torso. "Yeah, I'm especially proud of the fabulous new gash on my stomach."

Buffy touched his abdomen, right above the wound. "Is it bad?"

"It ain't good," he joked, but then shook his head. "Nah, it's not too deep. 'Tis but a scratch. Give me your dainty paw and I'll wrap up your fingers -- keepin' them immobile will help them heal up faster."

Buffy held out her hand and let Spike wrap the makeshift bandage around it. She grimaced at the pain in her hand, but it was over quickly. There was a lot of numbness from her shoulders down to her fingers, but she could still feel well enough for some pain to get through, and now that her circulation was returning, her fingers were starting to throb -- and not in a good way.

Spike tore his t-shirt into more strips, and then started wrapping her wrists. "This'll have to do 'til we have access to a proper medkit. You need to go to the hospital?"

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think there's any major damage. I hate hospitals..." She'd hated hospitals since she was little, but she hated them even more since her mother's health problems started.

"No one likes hospitals, but if you need to go, I'm takin' you. Don't be so bloody stubborn."

She shook her head again. "I know my body, and I don't need a doctor. There's nothing wrong with me that I can't take care of myself, or that you can't help me with. Trust me, I know I can't afford to be stubborn, I have too many people who depend on me... My nifty Slayer healing abilities should have me feeling better in a day or two."

"Alright... but if your mum asks, I offered to take you to see a doc."

Buffy smiled. "Okay, I'll be sure to let my mom know you wanted to take me to the hospital." She thought it was sweet that Spike obviously cared what her mother thought of him. It made Buffy feel like giggling to think that the Big Bad was afraid of what retiring, demure Joyce Summers might do or say to him. He really did care about her family, and that meant the world to Buffy.

Spike let the issue drop, trusting that Buffy would tell him if she felt there was something seriously wrong with her that required a doctor's attention. He finished wrapping her wrists, and then used scraps of his t-shirt to wipe at the places he was bleeding.

Buffy laid back against the end of the couch so she could rest and look at him at the same time. "I didn't see all of it, but I must say that your fighting was very impressive."

Spike smiled bashfully as he wiped blood from his stomach. Her praise meant a lot to him. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. And weren't you impressed with the way I hung by one arm and spazz-kicked at Dru?"

He chuckled. "Matter of fact, I was impressed by that."

"You must be easily impressed..."

"Not at all. That you had any juice left to even spazz-kick at anyone was incredibly impressive."

"Wish I could've done more, you had to fight them all by yourself..." Buffy sighed.

"You did what you could, luv."

"Yeah, but I really wanted to whoop their evil asses."

Spike smirked. "I almost feel sorry for the next vamps who cross you -- they're in for a major ass-kicking." His smirk disappeared when his eyes set on the bite marks on her shoulder; he looked away guiltily. "You feel up to leaving yet?"

"Just a few more minutes," Buffy replied, gently rubbing her arms and hands, trying to get more feeling back into them.

"Your arms hurt a lot?"

"Yeah, my muscles are stiff from being chained up all that time. I'm all pins and needle-y. I think the cuts are already healing a little, though -- yay."

Spike leaned forward, looking at the cuts on her left arm. "Yeah, they're lookin' better. Get some rest, and some food in ya, and..." He trailed off when his eyes moved up to her shoulder and he saw the bite mark again -- his eyes seemed to be magnetized to the damn thing. He sat back and looked away from her.

Buffy wondered why he'd suddenly gone silent and looked mopey. "Spike?"

"I'm sorry, Buffy..." he said quietly.

"For what?"

"For... everything. I'm sorry any of this had to happen to you because of me... Dru hurt you because of me. She blamed you for everything."

"I'd be dead right now if it wasn't for you, Spike. I owe you, big-time."

Even with Buffy's words of gratitude, Spike continued to list things he was sorry for. "I'm sorry I've been a thorn in your side since day one. I'm sorry for all the times I've tried to hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't get you out of those bloody chains the moment I walked in here. I'm sorry that I..."

"You didn't tell Dru to chain me up and try to kill me, did you?"

Spike's brows knit. "'Course not."

"Well, it's not your fault then. So, shut up." Buffy smiled. "The only one responsible for what happened to me is Drusilla."

Spike smiled slightly, but still found it hard to look her in the eye. She was being very charitable and forgiving, but he didn't think he deserved her kindness.

"Why do you still look like you're feeling guilty?" Buffy asked.

"'Cos of what I did to you..." He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "I hit you, I said nasty things to you... I bit you... I could've killed you."

"But you didn't kill me. Yeah, you punched and... bit me, but it wasn't your fault -- Dru freaked your mind. She had to have her helper monkeys hold you down while she forced thoughts into your mind. You wouldn't have hurt me if she didn't put you in a trance."

He snorted a laugh at the 'helper monkeys' thing, but then went back to looking sad. “How can you stand to even look at me?” Spike asked, hanging his head.

Buffy sighed. "Have you been listening to me? I don't blame you for anything, Spike. You shouldn't feel guilty." Buffy silently wondered when it was that Spike had developed a conscience and the ability to feel guilty… was it when he fell in love with her or had he been this way all along and she just never took the time to notice? Wasn't having a conscience part of what it meant to have a soul? How was it possible...?

Spike glanced at her. "I thought you'd want to dust me for biting you -- and I wouldn't blame you one bit. I know how... horrible it must've been for you."

"It was scary and it hurt, but..." Buffy was going to say how it had started feeling good, but she stopped herself from admitting that -- it still wigged her that she'd been getting aroused from the biting. "But I don't blame you for it, so you shouldn't blame yourself, either."

"I'm sure your chums will be much less understanding 'bout it. Rupert and Xander will be after me with pointy pieces of wood when they find out I bit you. It won't matter to them what my state-of-mind was at the time."

"Well... they don't have to know it was you that bit me. I can tell them it was Dru."

Spike looked at her, surprised. "You'd lie to them... to protect me?"

"Yes... I would." Buffy didn't want anything bad happening to Spike, especially not at the hands of her (sometimes) trigger-happy friends. They might see the bite marks and decide that Spike needed to pay for it. "You're right, they might not understand... What they don't know can't hurt you, so it can be our little secret."

Spike smiled, touched that she would do that for him. "That's very... Thanks. I know how important your mates are to you. It can't be easy for you to plan on lying to them."

"I'd like to count you among my friends after what you did for me tonight. You came through for me, Spike. I won't forget it."

He had to stop to swallow a lump of emotion in his throat. "I'd... I'd like that too." Buffy accepting him as her friend was more than he’d ever hoped he’d have with her – he was just sorry for everything that she’d been through to get her to that point.

After a few moments of silence, Buffy said, her voice soft and kind, "Can I ask you something?"

Spike didn't like the sounds of that... He was dreading when she'd want to talk about his love for her (and her lack of love for him). "You're supposed to be restin' -- you could do that more effectively without carryin' on a conversation with me. We can talk about whatever you want later. For now, just rest."

But, of course, Buffy would not be so easily deterred. "I can talk and rest at the same time. Matter of fact, I find talking very relaxing. I've got all these thoughts jumbled up in my brain, and it'll make me feel better to un-jumble some of them."

Spike sighed, resigning himself to the fact that they were going to have 'the talk' whether he wanted to or not. "Alright... what's on your mind, then?" he asked (as if he didn't know).

"So... the chip didn't give you a shock when you...?"

"No... I didn't feel a thing," Spike said uneasily, he quickly added, "I know my word doesn't mean much, but I give you my word that I won't start snacking on the populace. I turned my back on my old way of life for good tonight... 'Sides, the mojo Dru worked to disable the chip probably wore off by now, anyway."

Part of Buffy (her stubborn side) was still telling her not to put too much trust in Spike so quickly. But her gut was telling her that she could trust him -- and she was choosing to listen to her gut. "Okay, I'll trust you at your word. And you're most likely right about the 'mojo' wearing off. You were able to shake off the thrall she put you in, so... the chip thing was probably temporary too."

There was something else she had to ask. "You didn't... go hunting with Dru before you came here, did you?"

"No, I promise you, I didn't hurt anyone." Spike shook his head, relieved that he hadn't had a chance to take a life. It's very possible that he would have if Dru had taken him to the Bronze as she'd originally planned. He might have been able to talk himself into it. "We came straight here from the crypt."

"Would you have killed someone if you didn't come straight here?" Buffy knew she probably shouldn't have even asked, she should've just let that question go unanswered, but that was one of the many questions weighing on her mind.

Spike took and let out a slow breath. "I... might have." He looked at her, seeing what he assumed was disappointment in her eyes. "I thought Dru was my savior for the second time, I wanted my world to make sense again. I felt so bloody lost and hopeless before she showed up at the crypt... and I thought her comin' back was a sign telling me who I really am -- a monster. I thought I wouldn't have to be confused about who I am anymore. And then she said she wanted me again, that she would love me and make me feel strong, like I used to be...

"But when it came down to it, I was... hesitant to feed on a human again. Got angry with myself for being reluctant -- I'm a bloody vampire, I'm not supposed to have a problem with killing. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong. I had to try psyching myself up to do it. Even as I was trying to do that, I kept seeing your face... I didn't want to kill again partly 'cos I knew you'd be... disappointed -- and I know that's puttin' how you'd feel mildly. You believe me, don't you, Buffy? You believe I didn't kill anyone while I had the chance?"

Buffy nodded, smiling a little. She was relieved he hadn't gone hunting tonight, it would be harder to overlook that and be 'friends' with him. "I believe you, Spike. You showed me something tonight -- there's a lot more to you than I ever thought possible. I'd like to have a friend like you in my corner." The old Buffy with her old attitude (from just a few hours ago) would never believe that Spike hadn't fed on a human if he thought he could do it without pain from the chip. But she really did believe him now. His eyes spoke volumes, she could see he was telling the truth.

Spike was amazed by how nice Buffy was being to him, he didn't know she was capable of this kind of compassion and understanding and trust (directed at him). He still didn't think he deserved her being so nice, but hearing her say she trusted him and wanted to be friends made him feel like he could walk on air. Trust was the foundation of any sort of relationship. Be they just friends, slay-buddies, or lovers -- all of those had to start out with mutual trust.

Buffy closed her eyes and rested for a few minutes -- which gave Spike hope that that would be the end of the conversation for now. His relief, however, was short-lived.

Buffy opened her eyes again, and asked, "How do you really feel about me?"

Spike looked at her for a moment, and then back down at his hands. "You know how I feel..." he said timidly.

"I heard other people say you loved me, and I heard you tell Drusilla you loved me, but you didn't say it to me." For some reason, it was suddenly important to her to hear him say the words. Spike being in love with her wasn't a scary concept anymore.

"Why do you want me to say it?" Spike asked, his voice strained.

"Because... I think we need to talk to each other, not through or to other people." Buffy sat up and moved a little closer to him, giving him her full attention. "Tell me how you feel, Spike."

She thought he was going to choose not to answer her question at first, he didn't look at her or say anything for close to a minute. But then Spike turned to her and looked her in the eyes, he lightly set his hand over her uninjured one.

"You really want to know how I feel?" he asked unnecessarily. "'Cos there's no goin' back once I say it."

Buffy nodded, seeing an affection and passion in his eyes that made it impossible to speak at the moment.

"I love you, Buffy," Spike said, his voice deep, slightly rough, and filled with emotion. "You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut... my throat... I'm drowning in you, Summers, I'm drowning in you..."

They gazed at each other, an amazed little smile turned up at the corners of Buffy's mouth. She was feeling distinctly swoony again. No man had ever said anything like that to her before, and it made her feel so... But then she remembered: someone had said those very same words to her tonight -- the imaginary Spike had said it when Dru had been screwing with Buffy's head.

Buffy's expression went from touched to horror-stricken. "Oh my God..." She pulled her hand out from under his and scooted back away from him against the end of the couch.

Spike looked behind him, thinking that she must have seen a minion (who'd lagged behind the others) sneaking up behind him, but there was no one else in the room. "What?" He looked back to Buffy, confused.

Buffy covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh God, no... You did not just say that to me! This isn't happening!"

Spike, of course, thought the worst and believed she was reacting negatively to his heartfelt words. He clenched his jaw, feeling his spirits sinking to an all-time low. He knew Buffy wouldn't welcome his feelings for her, but seeing her look so disturbed about it broke his heart -- how many times could his heart shatter before it was beyond repair?

He knew how that poor little baldheaded sod Charlie Brown felt when Lucy snatched the football away from him at the last second. Buffy had goaded him into spilling his guts to her, knowing how he felt already, and then she acted like this... How could she be so cruel? Maybe she wanted to get the message across that his feelings would never be returned. Or maybe she just didn't have the energy left to be tactful. Were her words earlier lies -- that they could be friends? That she trusted him? Was she just leading him down the primrose path in order to pull the rug out from under his feet, put him back in his place, at the last moment -- just like Lucy did to Charlie Brown with the sodding football?

Spike thought he'd be emotionally numb by now after the night's events, but Buffy rejecting him and his feelings this way made white-hot pain explode inside of him. It took an effort not to wilt and crumble to the floor -- but he would not let her see how much she'd hurt him.

Spike stood up, eager to put an end to this maddening, and ultimately severely depressing, evening. "Come on, Slayer, I'll take you home. Just... Just forget I said a bloody word."

Buffy uncovered her eyes. "Spike, you don't understand... I mean, this isn't happening -- it isn't real."

He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"It isn't real, it's just another illusion! Drusilla did the same thing to me before..." Buffy's eyes darted around the room as paranoia gripped her. "I'm still in the first hallucination... it never ended! I'm going to snap out of it and be chained up again... I knew it was too good to be true!" her voice shook and she felt tears threaten to spill from her eyes. She didn't know if her mind could take it if this was just another one of Dru's tricks.

Spike could see how scared she was, and he felt more guilt for jumping to the wrong conclusion. He wished he could just wrap his arms around her and take away all of her fear and pain. He sat back down with her and touched her knee. "Hey, Buffy, look at me." He gave her knee a small squeeze until her big, green eyes focused back on him. "Buffy, this is happening -- Dru and her minions are gone. It's gonna be alright now, pet. I promise."

She shook her head and said sadly, "No, it can't be real."

"Why not? What makes you so sure?"

"B-because... you said the same exact thing to me -- the thing about how you think about me all the time, how you're... drowning in me. Only it wasn't really you... Dru tricked me into thinking you came to rescue me. What are the odds you'd say the exact same words in an illusion and in the real world? I... I don't think I can do it again, Spike... I can't be chained up again. I don't..." She trailed off, shaking her head as a tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek.

She sounded more like a scared little girl to him right now than the Chosen One. Spike took her uninjured right hand in his, gently grasping her hand and then caressing it. He silently cursed Drusilla's exceptional mind-fucking skills again. "You feel that? You feel my hand? You feel me touching you? This is real."

Buffy looked down at their joined hands, and then back up into his eyes. "Other stuff felt real too, but it wasn't..."

"Dru senses and knows things she shouldn't through her gift, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"So, I'm thinking that she must have plucked those words from my brain. God knows, sentiments like that have been runnin' rampant through my mind, especially as of late. Drusilla knew I'd said, or would be saying, those words to you, and she incorporated that into the illusion to make it seem more real."

Buffy sighed, still looking dubious. "I wish I could be sure... I hope 'Up Where We Belong' doesn't start playing out of nowhere and you aren't suddenly wearing a Navy dress uniform..."

Spike raised his brows. "You an' me both. Sounds like quite an illusion Dru put in your head..."

Buffy nodded.

He tried to think of other ways for her to discern one of Drusilla's convincing illusions from reality. "Anything else that might've stood out as odd in the hallucination?"

"Well... you were kind of... glowing."

"I was glowin'?"

"Not a big glow -- not like you were exposed to radiation -- but a soft glow, like they always gave Barbara Walters on her Oscar specials."

"Am I glowin' now?" Spike asked, glancing down at his body while holding his arms out to the sides.

She looked him over. "No..."

"Well, there ya go -- there's one for the 'Not An Illusion' column. Was there anything else that was unusual in hindsight?"

"I didn't feel pain. I was sure my lip was split but when you kissed me, I didn't..." Buffy's eyes widened for a second, she hadn't meant to reveal just how smitten she'd been with him in the illusion.

Spike blinked and stared at her for a moment. "I... kissed you? And you let me?" He thought, 'Bloody hell, I actually envy my hallucination-self...'

Buffy blushed a little. "Yeah, um... I was grateful to you for helping me, so we kissed."

Spike smiled, pleased (and a bit hopeful) that Buffy seemed to see him as a dashing, heroic figure in the vision she'd had. And she'd given him a kiss -- yes, it was while in the midst of one of Dru's illusions, but it still gave him hope. "I was your dashing hero in your illusion, eh? White horse an' all?"

"No... there was no horse, but yeah, you were." She smiled a little, remembering, vividly, how handsome he'd looked, and how swoony he'd made her feel. "But that was just some weird fantasy that Dru put in my head."

Spike's smile faded, he looked down and nodded. He knew she didn't see him as her hero when she was in her right mind.

Buffy put her hand gently on his arm, making Spike look back up at her. "But what the real you did was even better. Well... if it is the real you..."

Spike grinned, looking happier (and more adorable) than Buffy could remember ever seeing him look. Then he looked back down at her hand on his arm, he was feeling strangely (for him) shy and humble. He should be enjoying this, acting cocky. "I... just did what I thought was right, y'know? It looks like what I thought was right, and what was actually right meshed up for once. Bloody miracle, it is."

He got an idea, and spoke before he thought it through. "To help prove to you this isn't another illusion, you think we should kiss...?" Then he shook his head, wanting to smack himself for even daring to suggest it. He might spoil everything because he couldn't control his need for her. "Never mind."

"Yeah... I think I should kiss you -- just to see if it hurts."

Spike leaned in, preparing to press his lips gently to hers. Buffy quickly pressed her lips hard against his, and pulled back when pain bloomed in her lip.

"Oww," Buffy groaned, touching her lip.

Spike blinked. It had been over so fast... he'd wanted to go slow and savor what was probably the only time he'd be allowed to kiss her. "It... uh, hurt, then?"

"Yeah, it did. So... I guess all this is real." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, finally letting herself believe the nightmare was really over.

Spike rubbed his lower lip. "When you said a 'kiss', I imagined something a little... slower and more... thorough. That's really how I kissed you in the hallucination? My hallucination-self has a lot to learn about how to kiss a lady properly."

"Well... no, the illusion kiss was... much slower and nicer. But I needed to kiss you hard to see if it hurt my lip. Sorry. Maybe... I can give you a good kiss -- after my lip heals up. You know, to thank you for saving my ass..."

Spike smiled, he'd take a gratitude kiss from her any day. "That'd be... great. If you still want to... kiss me after your lip's healed."

"I'm pretty sure I will." Buffy looked away shyly.

Spike sniffed and clapped his hands on top of his thighs. "Well, can we get the hell outta here now? I really hate this place."

Buffy chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll be okay walking now."

Spike stood up and then helped her to stand. "We only have to walk out to the car, and then it's a smooth, comfortable ride to Revello."

"Sounds good." Buffy looked down at herself. "Oh... I can't go outside in my bra..."

Spike picked up his coat from the couch, then put it over her shoulders. "There."

She smiled at him and pulled the coat closed around her. "Look at you, bein' all chivalrous. Thanks."

"Think nothin' of it, luv," Spike said. "Can't have you catchin' a cold."

"But I'm still bloody... you don't want to get it on your coat." She pouted, clearly intending to put it on, but feeling like she should give him a chance to take it back.

"I'm a vampire, I don't mind havin' blood on my clothes." Spike smirked.

Buffy carefully put her arms through the sleeves and pulled on the coat with Spike's help. The cuts on her arms and back were stinging like crazy, but it felt good to be covered up again.

"Wait, your shirt's all ripped up, and I'm wearing your coat -- you're just going to run around all... shirtless?" She would make him run around shirtless all the time if she had a choice in the matter.

"Better me than you, yeah? And it's not like I can catch a cold. C'mon now, your mum and Dawn are probably worryin' themselves sick."

"Oh... Spike, I can't let them see me like this," Buffy said grimly. "I'm a total bloody, gross mess!"

Spike sighed. "Well, what do you suggest? I've gotta get you home, Buffy."

"Could we... go to your crypt first? You've got stuff like bandages and a place I can wash away some of the blood, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, if that's what you want to do... But you look completely knackered, luv, you need to get home and into bed and sleep before you fall over."

"I will, but I have to make myself look a little less like an extra from 'Night of the Living Dead' first."

Spike smirked a little. "You're the prettiest zombie I've ever seen, if that's any consolation."

"It ain't," Buffy said, rolling her eyes and smirking a little too.





Buffy had an arm around Spike (for support, of course) as they exited the mansion. Spike also thought it would be a good idea to take some weapons with them. He took a machete, and Buffy took a stake (a stake was kind of like a weapon version of comfort food for her, she just felt better having one at the ready).

Buffy looked nervously at their surroundings as Spike guided her toward the driveway, she couldn't help but feel paranoid that something else would happen before they could get away.

Spike stopped walking abruptly, Buffy took a step without him before realizing that he'd stopped.

"Spike? What's..."

He looked shocked, which then turned into an enraged look, as he stared at something over her shoulder.

"Fucking hell!" Spike shouted and ran past Buffy to the driveway. "What'd they do to my bloody car!?"

Buffy turned and noticed that the DeSoto parked in the driveway had been vandalized. She went as quickly as she could to where Spike was standing at the side of the car. He growled and gestured wildly with his hands as he took in the damage to his car, too angry to form actual words.

Dru and Joshua, or her other minions, had smashed up the poor DeSoto as a parting gift. The windshield and other windows had been smashed, and the tires were flat. The inside of the car had been torn up, too: the driver's side door was open, revealing the ripped out steering column and slashed seats.

"Son of a bitch!" Spike bellowed and pounded his fist on the roof. He curled his hands into claws and held them out as if he were strangling someone. "If one of those bastards was here, I'd..."

Buffy patted him on the back. "Sorry about your car... but it's not like you paid for it, right?" She thought that might cheer him up, but it didn't.

"Possession is 9/10’s of the soddin' law -- it was my bloody car!" Spike insisted heatedly.

Spike took several deep breaths to try and calm down, he didn't want to stress Buffy out by acting like a lunatic. "How the bloody hell did they do all this without makin' enough noise to wake the dead?"

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know... The walls of the mansion are pretty thick, I guess it muffled the noise and we couldn't hear it."

"I loved this car..." Spike groaned, affectionately petting the hood. "Been through a lot together, we have."

"Maybe it can be fixed?"

"Maybe... but it's not goin' anywhere tonight." Spike looked at Buffy apologetically. "I'm sorry to say it, but it looks like we're walkin'..." He wasn't angry only because his beloved DeSoto was destroyed, he was also pissed off because he had no way of getting the wounded Buffy home as quickly and safely as possible.

"Yeah... I came to the same conclusion. Can't say the prospect of walking fills me with joy, but we don't have much of a choice."

Buffy didn't feel up to walking all the way to Spike's crypt, she was weak and needed to rest. Plus, taking a walk in Sunnydale in the wee hours was practically guaranteed to result in a run-in with a bloodthirsty demon of some kind -- especially with all the blood that covered both of them: it would be like chumming for sharks in a shark tank. Though she could fight if she absolutely had to, she didn’t want to have to fight anyone or anything in her current condition. She was tired, beat up, bloody, and hurting. And Spike had had a rough night, too. They both needed some time to recuperate before they got into another brawl with anyone or anything.

She looked back at the mansion. "Maybe... we should just stay here for a while," Buffy said, obviously not loving that idea either.

“We can take the sewers," Spike suggested, nodding toward a sewer access point. “I ain’t stayin’ in that fucking mansion one second longer than I have to. As if I didn’t already have enough bad memories of this place, a whole shitload more got added tonight.”

Buffy nodded and sighed. “Yeah, I’ve had my share of shitty memories of that place too...”

They started toward the sewers.

“Sure you don’t want to go home straightaway?” Spike needed to ask that question one more time. “Your house is closer.”

“No, I can’t let my mom see me like this.”

"Oh," Spike put a hand to his forehead, "I forgot 'til just now: your friends came by the crypt earlier lookin' for you."

"They did? When?"

"I... don't know how long ago, at least a couple hours. They said your mum and Dawn were worried about you. So maybe it'd be best to take you home with no stopover at the crypt."

"Uh-uh," Buffy said, shaking her head. Her mind was made up.

Spike groaned, "Bloody hell, woman... Then how about stoppin' at a callbox and ringing home so she at least knows you're alive?"

"I like that idea better. But there aren't a lot of payphones in the sewers."

"I think there's a phone not far from here. I've got some change in my coat pocket, should be enough to make a call. We'll do that, and then head into the sewers."

Buffy sighed. She wasn't happy having to add more walking time to their journey, but Spike was right, she had to let her mom know she was alright. "Okay, let's get this over with..."

Spike and Buffy stuck to the shadows on the way to the payphone. They were concerned that someone might call the cops if they were seen. Spike was bloody, shirtless, and carrying a machete, and Buffy was disheveled and bloody -- they were a scary-looking couple, even for Sunnydale.

When they made it to the phone, Buffy called home and told her harried mother that she was okay. Joyce and Dawn were so relieved to hear from her. Buffy didn't go into detail about what happened to her, but she did say that she'd been taken captive for several hours and she'd been hurt, though not seriously. She told them it was Drusilla who had come after her, and that it was Spike who had saved her life. Dawn was very pleased by that news too, she'd been right about Spike all along. Some excessive gloating would be in order later.

Joyce told Buffy that Giles, Anya, and Xander were still out looking for her, but they would probably be back soon. Joyce was puzzled when Buffy said she wouldn't be home for a little while longer. Buffy only said that there was something she had to take care of before coming home.

And then, having reassured her family that she was still among the living, Buffy and Spike went into the sewers.





Spike and Buffy each had an arm around the other to help her walk. But she was getting too tired. She had to stop and rest a few times before Spike just picked her up and carried her in his arms.

Spike pointed out a tunnel that led right to Revello Drive, should Buffy ever find herself wandering in the sewers and need to find a quick route to her house. There was a big, red peace sign spray painted on the wall, which made it easier to find.

Buffy had protested being carried at first, but she was too weary to put up more than a feeble protest. After the horrible night she'd had, being held in his strong arms made her feel safe and more relaxed. Buffy thought some of that might go back to her childhood, when her daddy would gather her up in his arms when she was scared. That had always made everything better. And now, Spike was the one making her feel safe -- crazy, but true. She prayed that Spike wouldn't disappoint or betray her now that she'd decided to trust him, it would break her heart if Spike hurt her now.

Buffy tried to dwell on pleasant thoughts and settled against Spike's body, falling asleep within minutes.

Spike's mind was going a mile a minute as he walked through the tunnels carrying his precious cargo. The events of the evening replayed in his head, over and over again. But concentrating on what needed to be done once they got to his place helped to slow his thoughts down. He thought out what he would do: get the first aid supplies, make Buffy as comfortable as possible, fix them both a stiff drink, and then clean and dress her injuries.

Things were looking up for him; Spike didn't know if Buffy would seriously be interested in a romantic relationship with him, but it seemed that he'd at the very least get some of that consideration and respect he'd longed for. It was scary to be embarking on this new phase of his life -- there truly was no going back now -- but it felt good, too. He'd prove to everyone that he was capable of changing for the better.





It took about fifteen minutes of walking before Spike emerged into the lower level of his crypt. A few torches were still burning, giving off enough light for them to see.

As Spike carried Buffy over to his bed, he cast a nervous glance at the area of the room where his shrine was set up. He hadn't even thought about it until now, he'd been preoccupied with more pressing matters. That area of the room was still cloaked in darkness (and the shrine itself was covered with a sheet), so there was little chance of Buffy thinking there was anything to see over there... at least he hoped she wouldn't see it. Spike knew that if she did discover it, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him ever again.

Spike now felt ashamed of himself for stealing the photographs and her personal property, but he'd just felt so frustrated and helpless at the time. He planned on taking all the pictures and mementos down after tonight. The things that belonged to her would be clandestinely put back where he'd found them, hopefully Buffy would just think she'd misplaced them and not suspect anything.

'She won't see it... no worries,' Spike assured himself. It wasn't as if Buffy would feel up to having the grand tour of the lower crypt, she'd just be sitting still while he bandaged her up.

Spike laid Buffy down on the bed, and then stood back, just looking at her for a few more moments. She looked like an angel -- an angel who'd floated down to Earth and had the shit beaten out of her, but an angel, nonetheless.

He hated to wake her when she was finally resting, but he had to get her cleaned up and back home. He tapped lightly on her arm. "Buffy, wake up, luv." It took a few more tries before she opened her eyes and snorted awake.

"Hunh? Are we home?" Buffy asked, going up on her elbows and looking around, sleepy-eyed.

"Close. We're at my home sweet home. You asked me to bring you to the crypt first, remember?"

"Oh... right." She sat up and rubbed her eyes, and then looked around again. Her brow creased in confusion. "This doesn't look like the crypt..."

"It's the lower level."

"I didn't know there was a lower level."

"It's secret." Spike smirked and went to get his first aid supplies. "My own personal Bat Cave."

"But there are no actual bats... right?" Buffy asked, looking anxiously up at the ceiling.

"There aren't any critters flying or scurrying about, don't worry. You kick the shit outta demons on a daily basis, and you're afraid of a little bat?" Spike teased.

"No, not afraid... exactly. I just don't like bats. They get their little feet tangled in your hair and they rain poo on you from the ceiling."

"Did you know there's a bat named Buffy?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "...You have a pet bat named 'Buffy'? Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"I don't have a pet bat," Spike chuckled. "It's the name of a kind of bat: the Buffy Flower Bat -- native to the Caribbean, if I'm rememberin' right."

"Hmm. That's weirdly ironic..."

Spike set the first aid kit down on the bed. "I need a bloody drink before we get started. You want one?" he asked as he went to the tabletop that served as a bar.

"I don't drink," Buffy said absently, checking out her surroundings. Spike had the place set up pretty nice -- nice for a cave below a crypt, anyway. There were rugs, a few chairs and other pieces of furniture, the bar, and a big bed with a fluffy peach duvet covering it. So, he did have a bed. "I'll have something without alcohol if you have it."

"I've only got water and blood," Spike told her regretfully.

"Water's fine."

Spike was going to pour himself a drink, but then changed his mind and put the glass back down. "Sod it, I'll save some time by drinkin' straight from the bottle." He proceeded to take a few healthy swallows of vodka.

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff..." Buffy commented.

He smiled and wiped his mouth with the back off his hand. "Goes down like water. Right, speakin' of water..."

Spike talked as he went further back in the cavern with a tall glass in hand, "There's a shower back here if you want to get washed up quick. Only gets cold water, though."

Buffy felt uncomfortable at the thought of being naked. It wasn't that she thought Spike would try anything funny, she just didn't want to feel that vulnerable.

Before she could reply, Spike added, "Or I could fill a basin with water and use a washcloth to get the blood off."

"Yeah, let's try the basin thing." Buffy moved to sit at the end of the bed, putting her feet on the floor. She ran her hand over the satiny duvet. "You have a bed, huh? I wondered where you... slept." He didn't need to know she'd also wondered where he and Harmony had sex.

Spike came back a minute later carrying a wash basin and a glass of water. "Yeah, was a bitch to put the bed together, but worth it to have a bit of comfort."

"I thought you just slept on a sarcophagus."

Spike handed her the glass of water. "I was content to sleep on top of a sarcophagus for a while. I don't mind roughin' it -- I prefer not havin' it too good, y'know? You start gettin' complacent if you're too comfortable, and I don't want to lose my edge. But it's nice to have a warm, soft bed to lay on."

Buffy took a few sips of the water. "Thanks."

Spike nodded and set the basin down on the floor. He retrieved his bottle of vodka, turned on the radio for some background music, and then he knelt down on the floor at Buffy's feet. "You want to take off the coat?"

"Oh, right. Guess it'd be hard to clean my wounds if they're covered up." Buffy took it off and set it on the bed next to her.

Spike helped her take the bandages off her wrists. "Looks like they're startin' to heal," he said, examining her wrists and arms. He washed the blood off of one arm and then the other. And then he started on her torso.

Buffy sucked in air when he wiped at a particularly sore cut.

He looked up at her. "Sorry, luv."

She took a breath and shook her head. "It's okay."

"Sure you don't want a stiff one?" Spike asked.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Huh?"

He held up the bottle of vodka.

"Oh... uh, no, I'm okay." Her mind had gone to a naughty place for a second there... Buffy reconsidered having a drink after another pass of the washcloth over her sore stomach. "You know what? Yeah, give me the bottle. If I don't deserve to have a stiff one after the night I've had..."

Spike handed her the bottle. "Just take a small drink, don't chug it like I do."

"I didn't plan to chug it, but thanks for the warning." Buffy took a normal-sized drink. She swallowed with an effort, then made a face. "Eugh!"

Spike smiled and tilted his head slightly, finding her impossibly more adorable and charming. "The more you drink, the easier it goes down. But don't get shit-faced -- your mum wouldn't like it if I brought you home staggerin' around."

Buffy took a few more little drinks. "Big Bad's scared of my mom?" she teased.

"Bloody well right I am. Summers women are forces to be reckoned with." He said more seriously, "I like Joyce, she's a decent lady."

Having finished wiping away the dried blood from Buffy's skin, Spike needed to use antiseptic on the cuts. Problem was, he didn't have any. He kept meaning to get something like that (for Buffy-related emergencies), but it had slipped his mind.

"I don't have any antiseptic, but I could use booze... got plenty of that."

She shrugged. "Okay."

Spike got an extra bottle of whiskey to use just on her cuts. He poured some whiskey on the washcloth and then swabbed her stomach.

"Ow!" Buffy hissed and squirmed. "That shit burns!"

"I know, but it's all I have here. I'll be quick, luv. Just take a few more drinks of vodka while I work on ya."

Buffy took a big drink, then groaned when as he continued wiping her stomach with the washcloth. She looked down at the picture Dru had 'drawn' on her. "I'd better not get frickin' scars. I don't care how many goons Dru keeps around her at all times, I'll hunt her down like a dog."

"I think you'll heal up fine," Spike reassured her. He let out a breath as he treated Buffy's wounds. "Sorry I couldn't stake her... I wanted to make sure she wouldn't come back to try something like this again."

"Well, it wasn't for lack of trying. You tried to kill her twice -- the bitch must have nine lives. That couldn't have been easy for you... I know how much Dru meant to you."

Spike kept his eyes on his task, not looking at Buffy's face. "That's just the way it had to be... Couldn't let her hurt you any more."

"What about all that stuff she said... about me leading you to your death? Doesn't that worry you, even a little?"

Spike half-shrugged and smirked. "It's like I said, who wants to live forever."

"Spike, I'm being serious. She's nutty as a fruitcake, but her predictions usually come true. It doesn't make you think twice about being around me?"

He stopped a moment and sighed, looking up at her. "I know better than most how spot-on Dru's visions are... but my future isn't determined 'til I determine it. After all the wrong I've done in my life, I wouldn't mind going out doin' something right. I'll take my chances with you, Slayer." Spike gave her a little smile. "And there's the added bonus of confusin' the hell out of people who thought they had me pegged as a villain. I like bein' unpredictable. I'm a rebel."

Buffy smiled back at him. She liked hearing Spike talking like that and meaning it. She couldn't recall any other conversations they'd had before tonight where they'd let down their guards completely, with no bravado or posturing. Buffy had no idea Spike had changed enough to say something like that. Recalling that 'I'm drowning in you' thing he'd said made her start feeling swoony again. He was chockfull of surprises. If only they could have talked like this before... except she wouldn't have allowed it before tonight. But now she could see there was a lot more to Spike than she'd previously thought.

As Spike re-bandaged her wrists, he realized that he hadn't cleaned the area around the bite mark -- he'd subconsciously avoided that particular area. But her skin was smeared with blood there, he had to do it, no matter how badly the guilt gnawed at him.

Spike wet the washcloth and began wiping delicately around the bite. His eyes drifted to hers, then he looked away again, working in silence.

"Don't say you're sorry again," Buffy said softly. "I can tell you were getting ready to say it."

"I thought expressing regret was a good thing for people to do?"

"It is, but I already know you're sorry. And you already know that I forgive you. So it doesn't need to be said again. Okay?"

Spike smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah... okay."

He finished cleansing her shoulder, then started dabbing gently at the blood on her face, having no choice but to look her in the eye.

Neither of them said anything until he was done, but they did look into each other's eyes and wonder what might happen between them now that things had changed so dramatically. Spike saw an openness and kindness in Buffy's eyes that he'd never seen before; it gave him hope that his wildest dreams might come true, after all. In Spike's eyes, Buffy saw that warmth and affection she'd wished to see after Dru had put him under her spell back at the mansion. Buffy was feeling a bit dazed and confused by everything, but she wanted to get to know the new and improved Spike better.

Spike put the extra bandages back in the first aid kit. "Alright, I'm done tormenting you with the booze now. You can treat your cuts with some proper antiseptic when you get home. You should be good as new in a few days."

Buffy touched her sore ribs, seeing there was some bruising on her sides.

He looked at where she was touching. "Your ribs botherin' you, eh?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure if any are broken or not."

"Let me have a look." Spike slowly put his hands lightly on both sides of her ribcage, giving her a chance to tell him not to touch her. But Buffy leaned back on her elbows, letting him feel for any breaks.

Spike tried to keep his mind on the medical aspect of what he was doing, and not how happy Buffy letting him touch her like this made him feel. The fact that he was actually touching her, and she was letting him, made him almost giddy with joy. He moved his hands delicately over her ribs, checking to see if they felt broken or cracked.

"I think you just got a few bruised ribs, don't feel any breaks," Spike said after a minute, taking his hands away.
"Good." Buffy liked the way his hands had felt on her. Those same strong hands that had doled out so much punishment over the years... could be so gentle and soothing. "What about you?" she asked him.

"Hmm?"

"You're putting everything away, but you're still bloody," Buffy pointed out, looking at the gash on his stomach and then at the blood on his face. He didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, but he was still messy.

"I'll take care of it later," Spike said dismissively.

Buffy took another, longer, drink of vodka. "Uh-uh, you get taken care of now, mister. Let me clean you up like you did me."

"You don't have to do that... The fingers on your left hand don't work."

"I can take care of you one-handed," Buffy insisted, flexing her right hand.

'Do NOT say anything vulgar in response to that!' Spike commanded himself, biting his tongue. "Alright."

Buffy took the washcloth from him, dipped it in the water and then began gently wiping the blood from his face. She started at his forehead and worked her way down to his chin. "You know... you're a very handsome guy."

He smiled a bit, feeling like he had to be blushing. "Just noticin' that now, are you?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, no..." Buffy shook her head and laughed. "I mean, yes, I noticed you were good-looking, but we didn't exactly get along, so I wouldn't admit to myself that you were hot."

"Hmm, I've gone quickly from 'handsome', to 'good-looking', to 'hot'. Those are all good, though I prefer 'hot'." Buffy was complimenting him on his looks? Spike thought he had to be dreaming this. He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "You're not so bad yourself, luv."

"Uh-huh, yeah. With my face all puffy and beat up, I bet I look ravishing right now," Buffy joked.

"You look ravishing at all times; it's your cross to bear."

Buffy chuckled as she finished cleaning his face. "You're such a huge liar. But that was a nice lie, so I'll let that one slide."

"I'm not lying..." Spike said softly, raising his hand to her face and cupping her cheek. "You're always beautiful to me."

After a moment, Spike took his hand away and looked down. "Me saying things like that must make you... uncomfortable."

"Yeah, I just hate hot guys telling me I'm beautiful. Why couldn't you say nice stuff like that before instead of making catty comments all the time?"

Spike looked back up at her, cocking an eyebrow. "You know why."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, you're right... I wouldn't have reacted very well. I wasn't the president of your fan club... in fact, they'd revoked my membership before tonight."

"And now... you're alright with me saying things like that? You know how I feel about you... how do you feel about me?" Spike asked with just a tinge of the anxiety he was feeling.

"I... I'm still sorting all that out. My head's still spinning from everything that happened tonight. But... I like you now, I know that much. I know I can count on you when I need you."

"You can always count on me, Buffy. So... friends, then?"

"Friends," Buffy agreed with a nod. "Do you think you can settle for being friends... with the way you feel about me? Won't that be like torture for you?"

Spike paused to consider the question; he'd been thinking about that subject a lot lately. "I'd rather be friends than nothing... or what's worse than nothing, to continue bein' nothing to you but a pain in the ass. I promise I won't drive you mad pressurin' you to give me more than you're capable of giving. I don't think I'll ever stop wanting you... but I'll try to respect how you feel..." He shook and hung his head. "God... I sound like a gigantic poof."

Buffy smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. "If a poof is a considerate, thoughtful person, then yes, you sound like a huge-giant poof."

"Thanks a lot," Spike said, glancing up at her and smirking slightly.

Buffy was just testing him a little -- she wanted to see how he'd react if he thought she wasn't going to give him a chance at being with her. And he passed the test. She wasn't positive what exactly it was that she wanted to have with Spike, but she knew that being 'just friends' wasn't going to be enough for either of them. Here she was, exhausted and in pain, and she still couldn't help thinking how handsome Spike was. She couldn't stop thinking of the way he'd protected her; how he'd given up his dreams of going back to his 'normal' way of life for her; she remembered the sweet, romantic things he'd said to her, and the sincerity in his eyes when he'd said those things. Buffy had the urge to just wrap herself around him and 'thank' him properly. But she wouldn't do that, of course. (Maybe in a day or two, when she was feeling better...)

"Have you thought of any of your other friends as 'hot'?" Spike asked teasingly, waggling his eyebrows.

Buffy smirked. "Well, I thought of Xander as hot a couple times. The first time I was under a spell, so that doesn't count. But the second time happened naturally. He was wearing a pair of tiny Speedos, and lookin' mighty fine."

"Ugh!" Spike screwed up his face. "Bloody hell... thanks for puttin' that image in my head. I can conjure that up if I ever need an ipecac. Now your entire ability to judge hotness has been called into question... I don't know if I'm flattered anymore."

Buffy laughed. "Sorry. But you did ask."

"Well, coulda been worse... coulda been Rupert in a Speedo."

It was Buffy's turn to make a face. "And now I have a mental ipecac, too." They shared a laugh, which felt so nice compared to how their conversations usually went. "Okay, let's get your belly skin free of blood. Stand up."

"You seem awfully... perky considering the hell you've been through tonight," Spike commented as he stood up in front of her.

Buffy shrugged and started wiping away the blood on his abdomen. "I got a second wind." She glanced up at him. "You must be really tired, you let that, 'I can take care of you one-handed' thing I said earlier go by without a lewd comment. I set you up with a perfect opportunity to say something crude, and you didn't take the bait."

Spike snorted. "Wasn't easy, let me tell ya. We're gettin' on so well... I'd hate to ruin it by bein' my normal boorish self."

Buffy shook her head. "You won't ruin it, Spike. You're my friend now, and I have a lot of patience with my friends; of course, I make them earn it by constantly testing theirs."

They smiled at each other and then she got back to work. His groin was right there, so she couldn't help letting her eyes stray down from his stomach. The part of her that had always secretly lusted after Spike was getting stronger by the minute, it seemed. If she looked long and hard enough, she could make out the outline of his...

Buffy cleared her throat, forcing her eyes away from his crotch.

Spike was trying not to focus on how Buffy touching him was making him feel. "I'm still tryin' to sort out everything that happened tonight... Correct me if I'm wrong, but you said that Dawn told you how I feel about you?"

"Um... yeah, I think I did say that."

Spike rolled his eyes, smiling ruefully. "The girl doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut... She'd best not plan on a career as a spy, wouldn't take much for the enemy to get her to spill state secrets."

"It only came up because I accused her of having a crush on you, and she was like, 'Oh, as if he'd notice me with you around'. Don't be mad at her for telling me, okay?" That would be all she needed: Spike pissed off at Dawn, and Dawn pissed off at Buffy for telling him what she'd told her. "You're... important to Dawn, she'd be really upset if you were mad at her."

Spike frowned and shook his head. "I'm not mad at her; it's hard to stay cross with the Nibblet. I just... pictured you finding out differently... if you ever found out."

He knew Dawn had a crush on him, he'd seen that starry-eyed look in a girl's eyes enough times over the years to recognize it. He found it flattering and sweet, and it was nice to know he could still turn a girl's head. Nothing could happen between them, of course. Besides the fact that he was in love with Buffy, Dawn was just too young for him and he didn't think of her that way. She was more like his little sister in his eyes, but he knew better than to tell Dawn that. There were few things worse than someone you fancied telling you they thought of you as a sibling.

"You're... not attracted to Dawn at all, are you? 'Cause I'm sorry, but I would have to kick your ass." It would be very, very bad for many reasons if Spike liked Dawn that way.

"Are you serious? Please, Buffy," Spike groaned. "I'm fond of the girl, but that's as far as it goes." He glanced at her. "Dawn still has some growin' up to do, and I'm attracted to fully-baked women."

Buffy took another drink, and then put the empty bottle on the floor next to the bed. "You were right, the booze is going down a lot easier now."

"Is it helpin' you feel any better?"

"I'm still tired and achy, but I do feel better than I did an hour ago." There was another thing Buffy wanted to talk about -- she'd expected Spike to mention it, but he hadn't. "Do you remember that..." she paused to clear her throat, "that sleazy stuff I said to you back at the mansion?"

Spike swallowed and nodded, looking away from her. Oh yes, he remembered that very well.

"I felt like such a slut... but I had to say those things. I'll definitely be leaving that part out when I





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