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Spike arrived at the school later than planned. Jack would have anticipated that, what with the road conditions, so Spike was surprised to discover he wasn't in the lot with every other shivering teenager waiting on a ride.

He parked towards the back but in plain view of the doors. Ten long minutes passed before he considered going inside.

Deciding to check by Jack's locker as he reached for the door handle, Spike suddenly recognized a familiar combination of dread and excitement sprouting in his stomach. He couldn't go inside. Buffy was here. If she spotted him it would only underline the many reasons why he wasn't welcome. He didn't think he could stand to see that fear in her eyes again.

Spike swallowed his nerves, hand gripping the door. He would wait near the entrance for a while, head back to the car if Jack wasn't out before his ears went numb from cold. The boy might be talking to Buffy, come to think of it. They needed time to discuss everything if it hadn't been done yet.

In less than a minute Spike was leaning against a brick wall, arms crossed and ignoring passing students in favor of the looping ice and wind. It kept picking up and dying down, matchless patterns created from broom swept snowflakes. Gusts beat against his leather coat and cold stung the corners of his eyes.

He was flipping his collar up when Clem appeared beside him. He poked Spike's arm and proffered a smile. "Hey, buddy. What're you doing here? It's your day off."

The blonde straightened. "I'm pickin' Jack up."

"Oh, karate kid, that's right." Clem nodded eagerly. He was the only other person who knew about the sparring practices that took place in the gym. It was hard to hide such a secret from a fellow janitor; the bloke was always around when Jack and Spike were together. Clem could keep a secret, though, and didn't have anyone to tell who might matter. "Jack's not here. His aunt picked him up earlier."

Well, that hadn't been the plan. "She did?"

"That's what I heard. I just got here myself but I saw a couple cops talking to Principal Wood in his office. The guy seems real beat. The door was open and they were saying something about Jack and another boy getting into a fight. I think Jack's okay but the other kid's in the hospital!"

Spike's heart dropped. "Bugger." He sighed, hands turning into his fists. "Don't s'pose you caught anything else?"

Clem shook his head, expression worried now. "Sorry. The bell rang after that and Robin closed the door."

Spike's frown deepened. "Thanks Clem. I'll see you, all right?"

"Right. Okay." He watched the other man stride off in a hurry. "Hey, wait! Spike?!"

Spike faced him, walking backward. "Yeah?!"

"Be careful driving! The roads are awful!"

"I know, Clem!" He did know. The roads were awful, but that wouldn't keep him from checking on Jack. He could still drive, couldn't he? He'd just have to be cautious about it.

Spike jumped in his car, speeding out of the parking lot and towards Madison.

Briefly, the man wondered if Buffy was still at the school after all, and whether Jack had spoken with her. If there had been a fight, Spike found it hard to believe Buffy wouldn't have forced herself into the middle of it. She cared too much, his girl.

Come to think, Spike hadn't seen her Jeep anywhere on the premises. He was sure she was there when the notion occurred to venture inside, but the fact remained he had no proof. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if perhaps she had gone home early, too.

It was unlikely, but as he stared at the clouded sky and bright white tuffs of sticky snow that made him yank on the steering wheel just to cut a few turns, Spike abandoned uncertainty. She probably wanted to beat the traffic he was only narrowly avoiding himself, which was reason enough. Or, she had gone to Jack's.

Spike shivered, but drove on. If the bird was there when he showed up he couldn't be blamed. He'd be somewhat grateful knowing where she was anyway. Spike had left Joe to his work, convinced Gregory would stay put as the weather grew more aggressive with each passing hour, but Spike valued his reassurances.

Besides, he couldn't stop himself from checking on Jack, whether Buffy was around or not. He just hoped the boy wasn't in too much trouble.

Spike pulled onto Madison Street within minutes, and parked on top of a snow pile only slightly shorter than a nearby mailbox. He rushed to Jack's front door, rapped anxiously against it much like he'd done only hours before. Need for a cigarette burned in his pocket while pale fingers twitched numbly from the cold.

A familiar face answered the door, his young, thin expression of unmoved anticipation staring straight ahead. "Hey, Spike."

The man pushed his way in, watching closely as Jack shut the door. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, but tightness lined the edges of his mouth.

"Heard there was a fight. I ran into Clem, he said you got into it with someone. Sent the bloke to the hospital?" Spike studied his clothes, the sweats and white T-shirt. He looked all right, a mite tired perhaps, but intact overall. Quiet, too. There was a distinct lack of bruises. His hair was damp and darker for it. He really did appear thankfully unbroken. The only noticeable change was a bandage wrapped tightly around the boy's right hand. "That a battle wound?"

Jack looked absently down at his fingers. "Yeah. Um... It was Michael."

Spike blinked, scoffing quietly. "Well, least we can say the wanker had it comin'." He followed Jack into the living room. The teenager took a seat on the couch. "Where's your aunt?"

"She's lying down. She freaked after Principal Wood told her what happened."

Spike tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "You're uh... You're not in too much trouble, are you? Know the cops made an appearance."

"No, I'm... I'm not in trouble. They weren't there for me."

"Well, that's good then," Spike said, and chose to remain standing even though the relief was enough to make his knees want for support. He also noted Buffy wasn't anywhere in sight, which both calmed and mystified him. "So, what'd O'Henry do to set you off? Should've known it was him when Clem mentioned-"

"Spike, you should sit down."

The man paused. He did as was asked of him, frowning openly. His knees were thankful as soon as his ass hit the couch, but something about the way Jack looked at him made Spike yearn to pace. "All right, I'm sittin'. Out with it."

"You're going to be pissed when I tell you, but first I need you to know I told Buffy everything, okay? She knows about Joe, and she talked to Al and his dad. They're aware of what's been going on, so he isn't really an issue anymore."

"Good," Spike said, but his frown deepened. He should be glad for Jack's report, over the moon with relief; except his heart constricted, harshly and sudden, like it knew something Spike didn't. "You goin' to tell me what this has to do with your brawl?"

Jack swallowed. "I didn't tell you something... about Michael and Shaun."

"Recall the first. Second is... Joe's brother, yeah?"

"Right." Jack yanked on his courage, forward and in. "They still liked to mess with me, even after Joe was laying off and I could fight back. One night they followed me. I was leaving Buffy's house." Jack sighed, rubbed his forehead. "I didn't think... I tried to avoid her after it, but Michael and Shaun already knew we were friends. They threatened her. I lied and told them I didn't care about her. No more than any student would his guidance counselor, ya know?"

The boy tried to ignore the expression in Spike's eyes, guilt creeping along his back like a shadow. "I didn't convince them very well. Today, Shaun and Michael made a move. Only it wasn't against me, it was against her."

Spike's whole body flinched. He swallowed. "What kind of-"

"They slashed her tires."

"They what?!'

Jack followed as Spike stood in a rush. "She's fine!" he hurried to say, "I swear she's fine. The sheriff took her home and everything."

Spike ran his hands through his hair, breathing quick. "You're sure?'"

Jack nodded.

The man paced in a circle. "How the hell did they manage that? Who caught 'em? Was it you?" Realization cleared the fog. "That's why you laid into Michael, ain't it? You caught the bastards-"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?" Spike demanded impatiently.

"I didn't catch them. Buffy did." Jack forged on, abandoning all petitions for delicacy. "I was looking for her during class. I was going to tell her about Joe, and Michael and Shaun. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to scare her or have the principal find out. They might've done something to retaliate."

"When I found her in the parking lot..." Jack screwed his eyes shut for a moment, "she was about to leave and tell Principal Wood what they did to her car. That's when Michael grabbed her... and held an ice pick up to her neck."

Jack watched Spike's eyes as the tension snapped, jolting him towards the door like a rocket. "She's fine, Spike! I mean it, she's okay!"

*She'd better be,* came the thought. Spike's hands were no more than rocks attached to wrists, but he wanted to wrap them around Michael O'Henry's throat. He'd kill the punk when he saw him again.

"Spike, wait!"

He didn't hear. But the front door suddenly became a blockade, darkening his path, mocking him. The man halted. "I need to use your phone," he said harshly.

"What?"

"Your phone. Need to make a call."

"It's in the kitchen." They wasted no time. Jack turned and Spike followed. It was only a moment before he was handed a faded yellow receiver, dialing a number from memory.

"Do you want me to-"

"Give me a minute, would you?"

"Exactly what I was going to ask," Jack mumbled. He walked slowly towards the dining room before pausing, and turning to add, "I'm sorry, Spike. I never realized Michael was a lunatic. I didn't think he'd try to... hurt her like that."

Spike's hand clenched around the phone. "It wasn't your fault, mate." He hung up when there was no answer on the other end and quickly redialed. "You stopped the thing, right? Bastard's in the hospital?"

Jack swallowed, his injured hand flexing without thought or effort. "Yeah. He hit his head when I-"

"Good." Spike squeezed the receiver again. His heart was thunder in his chest. "Now, let me have a mo' here, all right?"

Jack nodded, though the man didn't see. He only heard the retreat of the boy's footsteps.

Spike turned his full attention to the telephone, dialing once again.

***

Buffy woke to the sound of ringing. It wasn't pleasant. As a matter of fact, she'd been floating in a blissful, dreamless state of non-awareness until the insistent noise poked through her subconscious. Suddenly, she was seeing a man in a suit dangling pieces of sharp cheddar in front of her face. He said, "You had better answer that."

Her eyes popped open. Frowning, she looked to her left and found Tabitha sleeping easily through the racket. Buffy yawned and blinked to clear her vision. She was fumbled around in search of the phone before realizing it was lighting up her bedside table.

Buffy put the device blindly up to her ear, eyelids falling closed again. "Hello?" she croaked.

"Buffy?"

She sat up in bed, pulse shooting from zero to a hundred.

"Love, are you all right?"

She lost all breath. Her calm heart sprang back into a familiar mode of disquiet. *It's Spike! Spike is calling me!* her mind shouted, while Buffy fought to think through the noise and decide what to do.

"I'm going to take a guess here an' say you're listenin'. Least I hope. I know I shouldn't be calling you..." He sounded almost frightened, and certainly desperate. He was whispering, but the clock told her it wasn't very late at all. "I know you don't want to talk to me. Know I'm crossin' a line here. I just... I heard about what happened today and needed to be sure you were all right."

She inhaled.

"Buffy?"

She exhaled. "I'm... I'm here. You don't have to whisper, I'm not going to fall over or anything."

Spike choked back a laugh filled with relief, but a tiny chuckle escaped. Hearing her voice was like that first day all over again, the very first time she said his name. "Thank God. How are you?"

"Uh, okay. Been better, but I'm not hysterical or anything."

"Almost back to rights then?"

"Tired, mostly. I was sleeping just now."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Spike wanted to bang his head against the wall, even if he wasn't feeling very contrite. She was safe. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just-"

"No, it's okay." Buffy surprised herself, but once the words were out there was little chance she could get them back. "I'm awake now."

"Oh. Good. I mean, I'm glad you... got some rest."

"Yeah, I think the nap helped."

"Good," he said again.

A tense moment passed. Buffy was the one to break it before it hit the thirty second mark. "How did you, uh, hear about what happened?"

"Jack told me." Spike paused. "Didn't expect to learn what I did when the kid started off tellin' the story."

Buffy ignored the darkening pitch of his voice, the deepness around those words echoing a hidden outrage. Spike did still care, very much it seemed. "He told me about Joe," she said.

"I know." Spike flowed with the topic change. Buffy likely didn't want to rehash. She had probably relived the ugly event a dozen times over through the course of the day. "I wanted Jack to warn you 'bout him."

"Well he did. I... I talked to Al after."

Spike smiled softly. "That's good."

"Yeah, it is." Buffy let loose one long held breath before taking another. "Thank you. For warning me."

"Always." Spike shut his eyes upon realizing he'd slipped, and attempted to push through the moment. "I- I heard about your tires. I can fix 'em- Or have 'em fixed for you. Been workin' at a body shop outside town. Get it done cheap."

"Larry's taking care of it."

"Oh. Right." *As he should,* Spike thought, though it hurt.

"Thanks... for that, too."

"Anytime," he said, carefully now.

Another quiet moment snuck in, and this time, Buffy broke it with a farewell. "I guess I should... get going."

Spike closed his eyes again. Tears worked to gather behind his lids but he fought them. "Yeah."

"Thank you."

"Said that already, pet."

"I meant for calling."

He blinked, gazing widely and stunned at the kitchen wall. "You mean that?"

A beat. "Yes."

"I couldn't just..." The man shook his head. "I wanted-"

"I know." Buffy's voice floated away, becoming the whisper she had once chastised him for. "Bye, Spike."

"Right..." He took a deep breath. "Goodbye, Buffy."

The dial tone was a lonely sound, to both of them.





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