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Spike wasn't pleased with her. Truthfully, she didn't really care. What she was doing she was doing for their family. And since Spike usually trusted her instincts – especially when she was this adamant about them – and now he was second guessing her, it only confirmed to her that something was up. She could easily point the finger at Tara since all of their discord had come the moment she arrived, however beyond that, she couldn't point to any concrete proof. How do you explain to someone that it's possible they could be under some kind of spell whilst under the spell? Especially when it was just hypothetical at this point.

And so, she made her way to back of the classroom, willing to blend into the corner and let Spike do his thing. Besides, she'd been wanting to see her sexy husband teach anyway. She was hoping it would have been under better circumstanced –namely when he wasn't so angry with her—but she had stood firm.

"You don't trust me!" he accused.

"I do trust you. I don't trust her."

That wasn't enough for Spike. Her insistence of being there at his class so Tara didn't have a chance alone with him, spoke volumes to Spike of her mistrust for him. She hoped one day he'd understand that she truly did trust him. Trust for them had been a bumpy and long, winding road so for him to even suggest she didn't trust him was laughable at best.

Their eyes met across the room as it began to fill up and Buffy tried to smile encouragingly at him. The corner of his mouth turned up, in an attempt of a smile, then he focused back on his task.

Buffy could pinpoint the moment Tara entered the room for a few different reasons. For one, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, second, Spike's attention immediately darted toward the girl and his smile was easy for her as it had not been for Buffy. Thirdly, the smell. Yes, the sour smell was beginning to permeate the room. Buffy glanced around, noting no one seemed to notice it. On their way to class earlier Buffy had used the silence Spike was treating her to catalogue her observations and hunches on Tara. Willow's claim that she was unable to deny Tara anything – as Spike and Giles seemed unable to deny her anything as well – sparked Buffy's memories of the first night Spike had met Tara and had come home smelling sour. Then, she'd smelt it the night she met Tara. Along with a feeling of nausea that had her throwing up her dinner in Giles' bathroom. Then this afternoon she'd smelt it on him – a trace of it so faint that if she hadn't been in his arms, she never would have noticed. Whatever the sour scent was, it trailed them and its intensity heightened and lessened seemingly due the proximity of Tara. That was Buffy's hypothesis anyway. Since no one else smelled it, she was sure that was going to be damn near impossible to prove.

The look of shock, and then disappointment, in seeing Buffy almost had Buffy grinning at the girl. In fact, she couldn't help letting a little smirk escape. She felt like shouting "Take that!" to her, but instead watched the girl as she shyly ducked her head and made her way to her seat.

Across the room.

Buffy sat back and tried hard, so hard, to observe without letting her own insecurities or jealousies take over. It was hard. Especially when Spike and Tara kept glancing at each other. With every look Spike gave to Tara, he would immediately back up with one to Buffy. She tried hard to keep her expression impassive, but found it difficult. She found herself repeating "It has to be a spell. He loves me. Just me. It's Tara. She's evil. It's a spell. He loves me."

By the end of class, Buffy was more than ready to get out away from Tara. She felt wave after wave of nausea hit her and wondered briefly if Tara was upping the mojo due to her surprise visit to Spike's class. And when the last student, sans Tara, had filed out of the room, Buffy flew to the front of the room and wrapped herself around Spike.

"Baby," she purred, "You were magnificent."

Spike seemed to be warring with himself. She could feel the tension within him as his arms came around her gingerly. Buffy's head turned just slightly and she stared Tara down.

"H-hi Buffy. How are you?"

"Fine."

Spike nudged her. Buffy resisted the urge to elbow him in the stomach. Instead she parted from Spike and stood in front of him, protecting him.

"Are you patrolling with us tonight?" Tara asked, tucking some hair behind her ear and ducking her head.

"No. We're not patrolling. We're going home and so are you."

"Buffy, you don't have to be rude," Spike muttered.

Buffy bit her tongue and smiled sweetly at Tara. "Have a good night!"
Tara appeared thoroughly confused and with a stuttered good night, shuffled out of the room.

Buffy braced herself.

"Buffy honestly! How can you just let the girl go out there with no one to help her?" He demanded angrily.

"She's the fucking Slayer! She'll figure it out. She saw one remember? I'm sure she has the logistics down. Stake, heart, dust."

He was seething and Buffy wanted nothing more than to slap him for not trusting HER. She was trying so hard to keep herself together, to keep them together and she was failing miserably. She supposed telling him about visiting Tara's hometown tomorrow would be a huge mistake so instead she told him calmly that she was going out with her mother the following day for the day. Spike grunted his acceptance and Buffy followed him out the door wondering if she was cracking up and praying for some guidance.





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