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Just a note to everyone who has reviewed thus far. You are all angels thank you so much for your kind words and your support. I don't know if I would have gotten this far without your support. Nia

[A/N: Title is from my other permanent muse, the Bard of Avon (please don’t say you have no idea who I mean), from the Taming of the Shrew, act 5, sc 2 (a personal favorite, coz I am one). I absolutely hated the way some of the writers treated Spike and you won’t find any wishy-washy stuff in this fic – sorry but the angst will come from elsewhere, not between Buffy and Spike, at least not much of it anyway. Quotes as attributed, and the disclaimers are still in effect]

Previously: Spike has promised Buffy something and Willow is discovering there are no limits. . . which is in and of itself a dangerous thing. This is later that same day.

29. To watch the night in storms

Out of this nettle danger we pluck this flower safety.
Henry IV, pt 1, act 2, sc 4

The sky breaks.
It sags and breathes upon my face.
In the presence of mine enemies, mine enemies
the world is full of enemies
there is no safe place.
Anne Sexton, Noon Walk on the Asylum Lawn


They’d all over slept, curled around each other in different poses, but each one of them feeling pretty much the same thing, this was safe, this was comfortable, this was home. Spike was curled around Buffy, his front to her back, arms tight around her, as she clung to him even in the depths of her sleep, his injured hand cradled between her breasts. She’d not let him go, not once during the night, afraid the dreams would come again to haunt her hard-won peace. Downstairs, on the couch in the living room, Dawn and Tara were curled up together like puppies, long legs and hair wrapped around each other, the television still on.

The house was still, undisturbed by any living or non-living thing, its walls shielding the inhabitants from the outside world.

But peace, especially in Sunnydale, is a fragile thing. Doesn’t always last long, sometimes it doesn’t last at all. And this morning was going to be no exception.

For now, though, those calling Revello Drive home and meaning it, were all safe and sound.


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It was Saturday, which meant lazing about in bed usually, or sometimes, it meant getting up and bringing donuts and goodies to Buffy’s house. Admittedly, he hadn’t done it in a while, not for a couple of weeks, but Xander figured he might as well start doing it again, since Buffy was now back. So, poking Anya awake, he mumbled something to her about getting donuts and heading over there.

She grumbled her own response, but moved toward the bathroom and the shower to wake herself up.

Before long, they were dressed and on their way, after having called Giles to see if he was up for some bonding and information sharing at Buffy’s. His response was even more garbled than Anya’s had been, but Xander got the gist of it, understanding that the older man would be there before the hour was out.


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


She didn’t have a key, had forgotten to bring one yesterday, was it only yesterday? When she’d left the house to go to the registrar’s office. No. . . that was Friday when she’d done that. So it couldn’t be. . . Willow shrugged her shoulders, then touched the back door’s handle. A little arc of electricity sparked from her fingertips to the door, snaking around the metal. A distinctive click sounded and Willow opened the door and walked inside.

The house was quiet and she figured everyone was either out or asleep. Humming under her breath, she surveyed the contents of the refrigerator and the cabinets. Ahhh, pancakes and bacon and all sorts of breakfasty goodness, she thought. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, next to the island, Willow raised her fingers and emptied the cabinets of all the supplies she would need.

Still humming, she got out the bowls and pans and all sorts of things, setting everything down. Mixing and chopping and frying bacon and getting everything together, Willow sat at the island, her eyes moving this way and that.


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


The noise in the kitchen woke her and Tara gently nudged Dawn off her so that she could get up and see what was going on. She didn’t think it was a burglar, for one thing, it sounded like cooking noises, for another it was far too noisy for someone trying to be quiet. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Tara stretched and the smell of cooking bacon and pancakes reached her nose.

Dawn stretched awake beside her, and her sleepy voice sounded in the air “if you are here, who is the cooking fairy in the kitchen? It can’t be Buffy . . . she burns pancakes.”

Smiling down at the teen, Tara said, “I’m not sure, but whoever it is, is welcome to do this all the time.”

“Well I’m hungry, so let’s go eat.” Getting to her feet, Dawn pulled the older girl after her and they headed toward the breakfast smells in the kitchen.

And stopped short at the sight that greeted them.

Willow was sitting on the island countertop, her back to the hallway, humming under her breath, while all around her the kitchen utensils and appliances did all the work. The pancakes were flipping themselves, while a knife was slicing fruit and the coffeepot was perking away, and orange juice was dancing out of the refrigerator. It looked like some hellmouth version of those weird cartoon movies, where everything has a human face and a personality. . . especially those way-too-cute Disney movies.

She looked like a weird Sunnydale version of Mrs. Weasley – a Mrs. Weasley on crack.

It was creeping Dawn out.

The two in the doorway shared a look, the situation bothering both of them. Afraid of saying anything, for fear of everything landing on the floor in a heap, they backed away from the kitchen, then sat down together on the couch. Neither one knew what to say.

Tara was floored. This was just . . . what Willow was doing was a just a blatant and completely unnecessary use of power, it just . . . why use magic for such a simple task?

For Dawn, while it looked cool, something about it just smelled of nothing good.

The two were still sitting there stunned when Xander and Anya came in through the front door.

“Hey you two, what’s cooking?”

Dawn nearly fell over in completely inappropriate laughter.

“Good morning strangely laughing teenager” was Anya’s greeting, which just sent the two further over the edge, both girls now laughing hysterically. It wasn’t good laughter either, but the other two didn’t know that.

Willow’s voice chimed in from the kitchen, “hey, got pancakes and stuff ready. Anyone hungry?”

Xander was first in the kitchen and everything must have been normal, because he never said a word about it, and the two girls thought maybe they were imagining things, until Anya walked into the kitchen, saying “this room reeks of magic. What did you do Willow?”

“Nothing. Just fixed breakfast.” But there was a defensive note in her voice that wasn’t there before, and both Dawn and Tara noticed it.

There was so much food, Xander didn’t know where to start. “Will, you’ve out done yourself. This is awesome. Puts my donuts to shame.”

And he dug in, his plate piled high with pancakes and syrup. Anya also had a couple of pancakes and fruit on her plate, but the other two just picked, almost as if they were afraid of eating what Willow had prepared. They ate in relative silence, neither Dawn nor Tara willing to bring up what they’d seen, and Xander was too busy eating to even notice their unease.

Taking a breather, he looked up, suddenly realizing that Buffy wasn’t awake yet. Getting to his feet, he headed for the stairs, telling the girls “just gonna hit the bathroom, be right back.”

He bounded up the stairs, heading for the bathroom, then veering off to knock on Buffy’s door. “Hey, Buffster, you’re missing out on pancakey goodness that Willow fixed up for everyone.”

When he got no response, Xander did what he always did – he opened the door to her room.

And got an eyeful.

Gaping at the picture on the bed, Xander gobbled something in his throat.

Neither figure on the bed even registered his presence.

So much for predatory and slayer senses.

Rubbing his eyes, hoping to clear the vision, Xander was disappointed when the scene didn’t change. Nope. They were still there.

Buffy was tucked up in Spike’s arms, his curled around her protectively, both of them sound asleep. The odd thing was, they both looked so peaceful. None of those harsh lines he’d noticed before were on her face and Spike looked like a little boy clutching his favorite toy. Xander didn’t know what to think.

Reacting without thinking, he slammed the door behind him and yelled down the stairs “Willow what the hell have you done?!”

Almost yelling at the top of his voice, he continued, “no amount of cookies is gonna make up for this”.

Xander practically ran down the stairs, nearly barreling into Giles, who was coming in the front door, meeting the girls who were coming in from the kitchen, everyone talking all at once. The noise in the hallway started getting louder, until finally a very sleepy and rather annoyed voice sounded from the top of the stairs. “Can you all just keep it down a bit?”

Dawn and Tara exchanged a glance, catching sight of the look on Xander’s face, while Giles just looked about completely confused. Willow was still trying to say something to Xander while Anya looked around at all their expressions, quickly coming to a conclusion.
Giles was the first to speak, herding everyone away from the hallway, into the kitchen. “Come now everyone, let’s get out of the hallway. Buffy, when you’re ready, please join us.”

Xander wouldn’t speak, a scowl on his features that made Giles pause, wondering just what new fiasco he’d stepped into. The girls wore equal looks of knowledge and wariness, except for Willow, who’s face was defensively schooled. Stepping into the kitchen, Giles noted the breakfast dishes arrayed on the counter, and asked “did you make any tea?”

At a shake of Tara’s head, Giles put the kettle on to boil and settled down for explanations.


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


Her bedroom door slamming startled them both awake, and she caught his chin with the top of her head, jarring the both of them to full wakefulness. Buffy groaned into the pillow, then rolled over to face him. Kissing his bruised chin, she asked, “you okay?”

He nodded once, curling back around her, pulling her towards him. “‘m fine. Just startled is all.”

The loud voices in the hallway penetrated the calm of the room, and Spike sighed, believing this was all at an end. Reluctant to let her go, he held on tighter, rubbing himself against her. She settled in closer, hugging him back with equal fervor. Listening to the rising note of hysteria outside their door, Buffy groaned again. “Can we get them to all go away?”

“They’re your mates, sweetheart. Only you can send them packing.” He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let her go, afraid all this would come to an end.

Smiling up at him, Buffy ran her fingers down his face. “Don’t wanna get up. Wanna stay here.”

Ooh, she thought, there it is, that smirk that drives me batty, that half the time aggravated her no end and the other half set her back to being thirteen faced with her first crush. Nuzzling into her neck, Spike softly growled against her skin. “Don’t wanna let you go, pet, wanna keep you here.”

But the noise in the hallway got louder, words crashing against each other, nothing making any sense, because no one was listening to anyone but their own self. Spike sighed, able to pick out the most strident of the voices, which just happened to be Xander. Brushing kisses against her skin, he whispered “Harris found us.”

Her voice was equally low, laced with regret. “Thought it was him.” Her sigh was deep. “Didn’t want him to find out this way.”

“Find out what?” He was playing confused, hope beating fragile wings against his dead heart.

“About us.” Buffy pulled him closer, rubbing her cheek against his. “There is an us, right?”

Stunned, he just looked down at her. How in all the hells was he supposed to answer that? Never thought she would be the one pushing the issue between them, always thought it would have to have been him to keep pushing the envelope, making her accept him, not the other way round. Damn girl just kept him off balance.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?” He looked completely bewildered. Utterly fuddled and unsure, Spike just looked down at her. “Yeah, kitten?”

“There is an us . . . “ Buffy let her voice trail off, for once uncertain as to his reaction. He was quiet, too quiet. This was so unlike him that she wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Buffy.” He started to speak, thought better of what he was going to say, then opened his mouth again. “You better go calm them down.”

She looked at him strangely, then got up and made her request, noting that everyone was in the hall at the bottom of the stairs, even Giles. Looking down at everyone, really wanting nothing more than to go back to bed, she said, “can you all just keep it down a bit?”

Without waiting for a response, she went back to her bed. Giles’ voice came up at her, “Come now everyone, let’s get out of the hallway. Buffy, when you’re ready, please join us.”

Spike was sitting up, his back against the headboard, watching her come back into the room. He’d half expected her to just leave him there, especially after his rather eloquent non-response to her statement. He could tell she was confused and a bit annoyed with him, since she just stood at the side of her dresser, studiously not looking at him. Getting up, he pulled her into his embrace. “Already told you, ‘m yours for as long as you want. All yours, kitten. Not going anywhere.”

“I know you did, but . . . “ she couldn’t look at him, afraid he would tell her it would be like it was with Dawn, he would just watch over her and not hold her every night like he’d been doing. Afraid that he wasn’t hers anymore. Afraid that maybe he’d never really been hers at all.

“Told you once, how I felt. Hasn’t changed, love, still feel the same way.” Spike turned her round to face him. Abruptly, he realized he wasn’t dealing with the slayer part of her, hadn’t been dealing with her for days, since her resurrection. This was Buffy, the little girl who had her heart stomped on again and again by the men in her life, from her piss-poor excuse for a father to Angelus to Riley and all the idiots in-between, including the two men downstairs. Well, he wasn’t gonna be another one in a long list of disappointing men.

Those walls she’d erected around herself were, at least for the moment, down. She was allowing her vulnerability to show – something he’d never expected. But this had been starting to happen before she’d jumped, when it all started to become too much. And she’d actually come to him, asked for his help.

Hoping that those defensive walls were down for good, throwing caution to the wind, letting his heart go for it, Spike repeated what he’d said to her those long months ago, when he’d had her chained up. “I love you, pet. Not gonna leave you until you throw me out on my ear. So yeah,” he lifted her up, ignoring the twinge of pain in his right hand, “yeah, there is an us.”

And he kissed her so thoroughly that Buffy’s whole body responded.

Breaking away from each other, she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. He grunted, teasing her. “Ya know, pet, you do that to someone else it’ll break their ribs.”

Laughing softly, she said “found that out the hard way.”

“C’mon goldilocks, let’s go face the wolves.” Tugging on her hand, Spike pulled her to the door.





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