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Buffy poked at the fire, mumbling as it flared up to only a few pathetic embers. "I hate these fake log thingies," she muttered. "I mean, yeah, they keep you from having to cut down your own tree, and I'm sure there's other really good reasons for them, but I figure if you're gonna have a fire, you should have one with real wood."

"Personally, I think the less wood in the house, the better," Spike replied. "Oh, and not too thrilled with the whole fire thing either."

"Well, I like it. Makes it more Christmas-y. Or at least I would if I could get this damn thing to light. I've set the stupid ends on fire like a million times, and nothing." She set the poker aside in disgust. "Wanna watch another move?"

"You know Slayer, I think I've had my fill of the holiday movies," Spike said as Buffy began to rummage through the rather narrow collection of videos her mother had brought. "I think if I hear 'God bless us, every one' one more time, I'm going to stake myself."

"A Christmas Carol it is then," Buffy said perkily, pulling out a video. "And look, it's the one with Mickey!"

"Bollocks. That mouse reminds me of Harmony."

Buffy frowned, giving Spike a confused look. "How in the world does Mickey Mouse remind you of Harmony?"

"High pitched squeaky voice. Although at least the mouse isn't going on about 'blondie bear' this and 'soddin' France' that."

Buffy erupted into a fit of giggles. "Blondie bear?"

Spike's eyes grew wide as he realized what he'd just said. "Oh bloody hell."

"I like it. It totally suits you." Buffy giggled again. "Oh just wait until the others hear this one."

"What! No! Come on, Slayer, even you can't be that much of a bitch."

"But it's way too good to keep to myself. And it'll serve you right for spilling on the whole 'Wind Beneath My Wings' thing." Suddenly, Spike's expression changed from horror to a wide grin, and Buffy felt a stab of nervousness. "Why…why the smiling?"

"You didn't have Willow do a spell. You kept the memories."

Buffy blushed furiously, mentally kicking herself for her little slip up. "Uh, not because I wanted to," she said quickly. "Willow was afraid she'd get the spell wrong, and seeing how the last time she did that, I ended up engaged to you, I didn't want to take any chances."

Spike leaned in closer to her. "That's one thing about being a vampire, pet. I can always smell a lie."

Buffy blinked. That wasn't true—was it? Angel had never said anything about being a living lie detector. Okay, so maybe not so much living… An undead lie detector. Buffy frowned. Her inner voice was rambling, and that was never good. "I don't believe you."

"Then answer a question, and I'll tell you if you're lying or not."

"I'm not playing this game, Spike."

"I'm not playing a game, Slayer. Tell me, do you still want tall those little nasties you whispered into my ear when we were 'engaged?'"

"No!" Buffy replied quickly, wishing more than anything that she could just melt away into the floor. Her answer only made Spike's grin grow wider.

"That I can definitely smell is a lie, Slayer." He glanced down at her crotch and winked, letting her know exactly what he was referring to. Buffy gasped in outrage, raising her fist to punch him, but Spike caught it and pulled her so she fell forward, her hands stretched out on the couch on either side of him, her face inches away from the front of his jeans. Her eyes grew wide, and she glanced up at Spike, who looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. "So how 'bout it, Slayer."

That was all it took to snap Buffy back to reality. She pushed up, backing away from Spike. "You pull something like that again, and I'll be needing a vacuum cleaner."

"What's the matter? Afraid you might get a little too relaxed and have to stop being such an uptight bitch?"

"You are one step away…"

Spike chuckled. "You should really learn to lighten up a bit, Slayer. Just teasin' you is all."

"Well, it's not funny."

"Neither is you threatening to tell your mates about 'blondie bear.'" He grimaced at the words.

"So what, you thought you'd keep me from doing it by seriously pissing me off? Not the brightest plan there, Spike."

"Maybe I wanted to piss you off. Do you have any idea how hot you are when you're angry?"

Buffy threw her arms up in the air. "That's it! I can't deal with you anymore. I'm going to bed." She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Spike smiled, propping his feet up behind the couch and folding his hands behind his head. It looked like he wasn't going to have to watch Mickey's Christmas Carol again after all.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on the bed, staring at the wall in front of her. As the Slayer, she didn't need that much sleep in the first place, and with not much else to do in the cabin, she felt as if she'd been overdosing. She wasn't the least bit tired when she'd gone into the bedroom, only desperate to get away from Spike when he was looking at her like that.

But now she was restless, and she needed to work off some tension if she had any chance of ever falling asleep that night. She got up, slipping on the coat she had draped over a chair and shoving a few weapons in the pockets. Spike was still in the living room when she walked out, and she groaned inwardly.

"Where you going, Slayer?" he asked.

"Patrol. I want to make sure that there aren't anymore of those demons we dealt with last night."

Spike's eyes lit up. "Can I come?"

"No."

He frowned, giving her his best puppy dog expression. "But I want to kill something."

"So what's new?" Buffy asked flippantly. She wanted to get away from Spike for a while, and that certainly wouldn't work if he went with her.

"But what if I do something evil while you're gone?" he asked. He grinned. "I could loosen the top of the salt shaker."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. He'd heard that? He was supposed to be asleep, dammit. "You're not coming, Spike."

"Too much sodium in a diet can cause heart problems."

"If I come back and find that any evil has been done, you're dust, kay?"

"Slayer…"

"No, Spike."

"But…"

"No!" Buffy left the cabin then, not wanting to carry on with the argument any longer. She'd barely gotten very far at all when suddenly Spike was beside her, now wearing his leather duster. "I thought I told you you couldn't come with me," she snapped.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Spike said. "I'm just taking a walk in these nice, dark woods here, and you happen to be doing the same. Blood coincidence is what it is."

"You are by far the most irritating person I have ever met."

"Aw, Slayer, you called me a person. I'm touched."

"Touched in the head," Buffy grumbled, her fingers wound tightly around the stake in her pocket.

"You know, I'm offering to help you here. The least you could do is be nice about it."

"You just want to kill things, Spike."

"Exactly. And so do you. So I'm helping with that."

"I don't want to kill anything."

"Oh please. You relish the kill, and you know it."

"No, I don't. I'm not sick and twisted like you. I kill because I have to—because it’s my duty as the Slayer."

"So you wouldn't love to kill me then?" Spike moved in front of her, closing the space between them. "You wouldn't love to stick that stake through my heart right now?" Spike watched as Buffy's eyes widened, her breathing quickening. "Come on, Buffy—give it to me good."

Buffy froze, unable to get her body to move although her mind was racing. This was Spike. She knew she shouldn't be having this reaction to him. But he was so close, and looking at her in that way, and oh god, had he always smelled this good? He leaned in closer, and she could feel his cool breath against her lips. She knew she should push him away, run back into the cabin and leave him out in the cold. She closed her eyes, trembling as their lips almost touched.

Suddenly, he stopped, and Buffy felt herself flung to the ground. "Spike, what are you…?"

"Demons," Spike said, pulling her back up, but keeping her a little behind him.

Sure enough, there were two demons, similar to the one they'd fought the night before. "You get the ugly one, and I'll take the uglier one," Buffy said, slipping into a fighting stance.

"They both look equally ugly to me, pet."

Buffy didn't respond, merely attacking the one on the left. Spike shrugged, taking the one on the right. He kept his eye on the Slayer throughout the fight, making sure she didn't slip up like she had the night before.

Not that he cared about her. No. He just wanted to make sure he wasn't suddenly fighting two by himself.

Yeah, that reasoning sounded pretty good to him.

But Buffy didn't need him this time. Her pride still a little wounded from needing his help before, and she was determined to prove herself.

As the fight progressed, the two fell into an almost synchronized rhythm, moving in tandem with each other. Finally, Buffy and Spike shared a brief glance at each other before reaching out, both snapping the neck of their opponent at the same time. The now-dead demons oozed into the ground, and the vampire and the Slayer stared at each other, eyes locked. With the adrenaline from the fight still coursing through them, they crossed the short distance that separated them, their lips crashing together. Spike quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling Buffy against him as she moaned into his mouth.

As quickly as the kiss had started, it ended. Buffy backed away slowly at first, before turning around and walking towards the cabin. Spike ran after her, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I have to call Giles," Buffy replied, pulling her arm away from him.

"What?"

"Giles. I need to tell him about the demons. There…there might be more. Giles needs to know. What time is it in England?"

"Sod that. If there are more demons, we'll kill 'em. We need to talk about what just happened."

"Nothing happened, Spike."

"We kissed, Buffy."

"So? It's happened before. No big deal." She started to walk again, but Spike only grabbed her again.

"This time, there wasn't a spell."

"So what, you need the 'Buffy taste' out of your mouth. Why don't you go mangle another Angel cookie?"

"Dammit, would you stop this? Buffy, I felt something in that kiss. I know you did, too."

"Yes. And it's called revulsion."

"Oh please. Something's happening here, Buffy. I'm not pretending to understand it any more than you do, but that doesn't mean we can just ignore it."

"Spike, there's nothing, okay! There can't be. That kiss it was just…well, I don't know what it was, but it doesn't matter, because it can't happen again. I don't want it to happen again."

Spike's only response was to kiss her again, as hard as he could. Buffy immediately responded, her hands tangling in his hair, fulfilling her desire to feel the pale strands that she'd had ever since she'd bleached it earlier. When Spike remembered that Buffy needed to breathe, he pulled away, looking down into her wide green eyes.

"That revulsion you're feeling, Slayer?"

Buffy stepped back, her emotions clear as they warred on her face. Soon, she settled for anger, her formerly-panting mouth closing in a tight line as she reared back, punching Spike in the nose. Spike yelled in outrage, his hands going up to cover his nose. "Bloody hell, Slayer! What did you go and do that for?"

"Don't…touch…me," Buffy snarled, her voice a growl to rival Spike's own. With a flip of her hair, she turned and went into the cabin.

Spike watched her go, wondering if maybe he would've been better spending the week in Giles's bathtub.

*** *** ***

Spike sat in the living room, staring at Buffy's bedroom door and hoping she could come out again sometime that night. He could hear her talking softly, and assumed she was on the phone—most likely to Giles, trying to figure out if she was in any more danger from the demons they had been fighting.

He ran his fingers against his lips. She was right, he did still have "Buffy taste" in his mouth—but the last thing he wanted was for it to go away. If anything, he wanted more of it.

Spike looked up sharply when the bedroom door opened, looking up at Buffy with a hopeful expression. "Giles said he thinks they were Green Breath demons, or something like that," Buffy said.

"Green Breath?"

"Look, he says demon names, and I don't know what he's talking about, all right? But he did say they usually travel in threes, so we should be good."

"No more, um, Green Breath demons then?"

"No. I, um, just thought you might like to know."

"Buffy…"

"Spike, please, don't."

"You can't just ignore this. It won't go away."

"It has to! Us, with the kissing, it's so wrong. Don't you see that!"

Spike stood, walking towards Buffy. When he saw her start to back up into the bedroom, he stopped. "All I see is two people who obviously want each other. So why can't we…"

"Don't you even finish that sentence. I will never have sex with you, Spike. Never."

"What, is it because I'm not the sensitive, caring type like…what was the boy's name? Parker, right? Sure didn't seem like it took much for him to work his way between your legs, Slayer."

The look on Buffy's face made Spike wish he could take those words back. Had she responded with harsh words or even a punch, he would've known what to do, how to respond. Instead, she crumbled, pain naked in her eyes. "Go to hell, Spike," she said, trying to hide the way her voice cracked, before going into her bedroom.

"Slayer! Come on, Buffy, don't do this! I didn't mean…" She didn't respond, and Spike knew he'd pushed her too far. He went back to the couch, slumping in one corner. "Balls."

*** *** ***

Buffy woke the next morning with a twisting in the pit of her stomach. She'd wanted a nice, relaxing Christmas with her mom, but instead here she was, alone with Spike and dealing with things she so did not want to deal with.

His final words about Parker hurt her more than she even could begin to admit. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he'd said that, playing on her emotional insecurities and hurting her worse than any physical blow from him ever could.

Reluctantly, she got out of bed, taking solace in the fact that she could hide in the kitchen, the sunlight between there and Spike keeping her safe from anything he could try to pull today. Granted, she'd have to get a new plan come nightfall, and the prospect of spending the whole day in the kitchen sounded remarkably dull, but she certainly couldn't face Spike.

She started towards the kitchen, stopping suddenly when something beside the fireplace caught her eye. Wood. Freshly-chopped, real firewood. She glanced back at the closed door of the room where Spike was sleeping. Had he gotten it? As crazy as the thought of Spike going out and chopping firewood for her was, there was no other explanation as to how it got there. Well, Buffy supposed there could be firewood gnomes running about, but that was a little far-fetched even for the Slayer.

So that left her with the question of why. Why would Spike go out in the middle of the night and chop firewood? Getting up close and personal with wood was not exactly a favored pastime for vampires, and he didn't care one way or another about the fire himself. It was almost like…

Buffy stopped, her eyes slowly widening. He was apologizing. In his own, Spike way, he was trying to make up for what he'd said the night before. No… She shook her head. That couldn't be it. Spike didn't care what she thought of him. If Spike was doing her favors, it had to just be an attempt to continue what they'd started with the kisses. Apparently, he thought he could find his way into her pants that way. If being "sensitive" had worked for Parker…

But something about that didn't ring true for Buffy, no matter how badly she wanted it to. Spike was a lot of things, but he'd never struck her as the type to play those kind of games. If anything, he had too much of a habit of putting his foot into his mouth as soon as he opened it to even attempt to play the nice guy. So that brought her back to the earlier conclusion.

It was an apology.

An apology from Spike.

Buffy went back to her bedroom, deciding she really wasn't ready to no longer be lying down.

*** *** ***

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