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Buffy chewed on a potato chip thoughtfully and pondered the popularity of the Jerry Springer show. Before she had been injured, she envied the couch potatoes that could stay up to date on talk shows, soap operas and current events, but as the second fight broke out on the television, she flipped it off and shook her head at Spike. "Daytime television leaves a lot to be desired."



Spike watched with satisfaction as she finished off her sandwich and dabbed her face with a napkin. "Enjoy your lunch?"



"Yeah, it was good." Buffy threw her napkin into her plate and rolled toward the kitchen.



Spike followed behind her, leaning against the counter as she tossed the bread crust into the trash and put the plate in the sink. "I could have brought that for you."



"I get kind of tired of sitting there. Even rolling myself from room to room beats sitting in one spot."



"Aren't you exercising?"



"Yeah, funny. I walk on my hands on my treadmill every single night."



Spike frowned at her and crossed his arms. "Doesn't Joyce stretch you out and massage the muscles in your legs and back to keep the blood flow stimulated?"



"No."



"You're kidding, right?" He studied her closely and shook his head when she shrugged indifferently. "Slayer, you have to do that!"



"No, I don't."



"You can cause permanent damage if you don't."



"I already have permanent damage."



"You don't know that. Your mum said that the doctors gave you a fifty/fifty chance. And you are making it an eighty/twenty chance by not exercising." He spun on his heel and walked back into the living room. He pushed the coffee table to one side of the room, grabbed a blanket from behind the sofa and made a pallet on the floor. Turning to see Buffy behind him, he unhooked her tray and reached for her. "Come on."



"What?" Buffy smacked his hands away. "You can't possibly think that I am going to let you---" She was momentarily silenced by Spike lifting her under the arms and laying her out on the floor. "Spike, no! Put me back!"



Spike kneeled down and lifted her foot and leg, pushing her foot upward toward her body several times. "This simulates walking, the pressure that I’m putting on it is like taking a step."



"Would you put me back in my chair?" Buffy rolled her eyes when he lifted the other leg and repeated the process. "Spike, I can't feel a thing you're doing."



"It's not hurting you then, is it?" He wiggled his eyebrows and then began pushing her leg toward her chest, leaning against it to add pressure. "This will help with your back pain too. I imagine that the pain is being caused by a severe lack of stimulation."



Buffy flushed angrily and tried to sit up. Being in this position, having him touch her in any way, was just too much. It made her very aware of the fact that no man would ever touch her in desire again. "This is ridiculous! You don't know what you're doing."



"Yes, I do. You forget that I was here once." Spike pushed her back down on the floor and laid her leg down, then began kneading her thighs.



"Ack!" Buffy sat up again and leaned over her legs protectively. "You forget that you're a vampire! Wounds heal faster on you."



Spike tugged her upward and forced her to look at him. "And you're a Slayer. Seems to me that we're just about alike when it comes to healing. Now lie back and hush."



Buffy flopped back, her head thumping the floor lightly. "Oww."



"Your fault." He rubbed his hands together and began massaging her thigh again, frowning when he felt how thin it was. "Your leg feels like a chicken bone."



"That's it," she cried, pulling herself into a sitting position again.



"Yes, that is it." Spike moved behind her and pushed her ponytail to one side.



She opened her mouth to protest, then moaned when his strong hands began to massage her shoulders and neck. He rubbed hard, causing her arms and fingertips to tingle as he worked away the tension she had from using her upper body so much. Buffy felt him urge her forward and she leaned willingly, propping herself on her hands.



He trailed down her spine, massaging with one hand, and feeling for damage with the other. Playing it carefully, not wanting to alert her to the impromptu exam he was giving, he cleared his throat and spoke softly. "Your mum and I had a talk this morning."



"Really?" Buffy exhaled and leaned more, letting him move even lower. "About what? Ooh, that feels good right there."



Spike grinned a little, then frowned, remembering what Joyce had told him. "She told me that she kicked you out of the house after she found out that you're a Slayer." Buffy tensed immediately and Spike paused, "We don't have to talk about it."



"No, it's okay. She did kick me out. And I was a Slayer, past tense." She wished that she could pull her knees up and rest her head on them; instead she picked at the fibers of the blanket and tried to concentrate on the feel of his hands. "I guess she couldn't handle it. She just gave up or something."



He used his thumbs to massage circles at her shoulder blades. "You know, I don't think she's planning on giving up again."



"Last night she---"



Spike cut in quickly. "Last night she gave you an ultimatum that she regretted this morning. She wouldn't send you away."



"Whatever." Buffy rolled her head as he moved to her neck again. "God, I didn't know how sore I really was."



"Where did you go? When she made you leave, I mean."



"I went to Los Angeles. I got a job at this really greasy diner called Helen's Kitchen and I worked all the time. I ate when I had money and I slept a lot." She closed her eyes, remembering the lonely hotel room that she barricaded herself in. "I cried a lot too. I don't like being alone."



"Not many people do." Spike pushed along her spine again.



Buffy had relaxed completely and when he pressed at the middle of her spine, pain shot through her back and she cried out. It was almost unbearable, hard to breath, hard to sit still and most of all, hard to endure. She felt hot tears behind her eyes and shook her head, oblivious to the fact that he had moved around her. "Stop!"



"I have stopped." Spike was kneeling next to her and gripped her hand, shocked at how pale she had become. He had felt something in her back, a large knot, and when he pressed it, she had immediately reacted. "Do you have pain medication?"



"Upstairs. Pills," Buffy hissed through clenched teeth.



He let go of her hand and rushed up the stairs. As he ran back down, someone knocked at the door and he opened it, ignoring whomever it was. He raced back into the living room and grabbed her glass of juice. When she had downed the pill and taken several sips of her drink, he spoke softly. "Are you okay?"



"I think so." Without thinking, Buffy leaned her head against his shoulder and exhaled loudly.



Spike wrapped his arm behind her and took her glass with his other hand, then lifted her and laid her on the sofa. "It's okay, luv."



"What is going on here?" Giles asked suddenly, making his presence known for the first time.



"I was giving her a massage and she had a pain." Spike grabbed the blanket off of the floor and pulled it over her.



Giles looked the vampire up and down, taking in his very casual attire and removed his glasses. "Can I speak with you in the kitchen please?"



"Fine." He looked down at Buffy and said, "If you need anything just yell."



Giles poured himself a cup of coffee as soon as they entered the kitchen. As he added sugar and cream, he glared at Spike. "What were you doing touching her?"



"She told me that her mother doesn't massage her. I thought---"



"Your job here is to cook for her and make sure she doesn't injure herself. Not touch her in any way."



Spike stared at him for several seconds and then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "You can not possibly think that I would take advantage of her current situation and---"



"That's exactly what I think. You are, after all, a demon. You may be living with a family and you may be awake during the day now, but you are still a demon." Giles took a sip of his coffee and looked the man up and down again. "And what are you wearing? That is hideous apparel."



Spike glanced down at his clothing and bare feet, unable to argue the point that the man made. "I stole them from you."



Giles’ eyes widened and he choked on his drink. "Oh. In any case, that isn't the type of thing to wear around a woman."



"My clothes are in the wash and I don't exactly have a big selection."



"Fine, fine. I'll come by at sunset and take you to buy something less blinding, and more appropriate for your job here." Giles poured the contents of his cup down the drain and started out of the room. He paused beside Spike and leveled him with an icy glare. "And don't put your hands on her again."



Spike stood in one spot until he heard Giles speaking with Buffy, then he stomped into the basement and shoved his clothes into the dryer. A part of him couldn't blame Giles for thinking the worst, but another part of him was livid that the man would even consider such a notion. After all, a vampire wanting a Slayer? That was unheard of!



Unless he had inherited some of his sire's traits.



That was just what he needed on top of everything else.







Buffy awoke to the smell of lasagna and stretched her upper body. Her back ached, reminding her of the horrible pain she had experienced earlier and she sat up slowly. "Spike?"



"Just a minute!" Joyce called from the kitchen.



"Where's Spike?" Buffy asked, as soon as her mother came into the room.



Joyce pulled off her oven mitts and sat on the edge of the couch. "Giles and Xander came by and picked him up. They're taking him to the mall to buy clothing."



"Why?"



"Apparently, Mr. Giles came by this afternoon and wasn't pleased to see him walking around barefoot and in ’shameful under garments'." She brushed Buffy



's hair off her cheek. "Did you sleep well?" "I took a pain pill. I slept like the dead."



Joyce regarded her daughter's features, recalling the rest of what Giles had told her that afternoon. "Honey, is Spike good to you?"



"Sure. He didn't get on my nerves much today." Buffy stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and stared at her mother curiously. "Why?"



"Nothing. Just making sure." Joyce tilted her daughter's face, forcing her to look her in the eye. "If he was doing anything that made you uncomfortable or scared, you would tell me right?"



"No, I'd stake him if he did what you're implying, Mom."



"I've never been good at subtlety, have I?" Joyce chuckled and stood up, smoothing down her slacks. "Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. Let me help you into your chair."



Buffy held her arms up and smiled. "Don't drop me."



Joyce shook her head and lifted her, holding her in a bear hug. "Precious cargo, baby. Precious cargo."



As Buffy ate her dinner, she pondered what her mother had suggested. Spike would never, ever even look at her in a remotely romantic way. No one would. She was crippled, had really bad hair lately, and nothing going for her other than the fact that she used to be a powerful Slayer. Definitely not qualifications that would get the men lining up.



Or one vampire.



With really great hands for massaging.







Xander nudged Giles with his elbow as a woman with a dress that looked like saran wrap walked past them. "Do you feel as out of place here as me?"



Giles watched a man with a purple Mohawk buy a dog collar and then stepped back as he walked past, the sound of his pants squeaking throughout the store. "Fear has pretty much eclipsed all other feeling right now, Xander. What is the name of this store again?"



"Punk Town. I dunno, maybe I could be punk." Xander grabbed a pair of plastic pants with safety pins all over them and held them in front of him, ignoring Giles’ mumbled comments. "Did you see that woman with the pink hair earlier? She wanted me. She wanted me to wear that leash she bought and be her loooove puppy."



Spike walked up with several bags and grinned. "That wasn't a she. That was Thomas. He's actually a Huan demon, very aggressive lovers, I've been told."



"Oh god." Xander turned crimson and laid the pants down. "All the attractive people in this town are demons!"



"You found him attractive? Why, Xander, I'm shocked." Spike tried his best to look scandalized.



Giles glanced at the vampire's bags and shook his head. "Shopping with a vampire! I have reached a new low."



"Really, Rupert?" Spike slung his bags over his shoulder and fell into step with the two men. "I would think your all time low was the time you were a Fyoral demon."



"You're right." Giles nodded seriously. "I had to rely on you for help."



"Are we finished yet?" Xander asked as they stepped on the escalator. "I've got Anya shaped plans later tonight."



Spike nodded. "I'm ready."



Halfway down the escalator, Spike noticed a gift shop with several stuffed bears and candles. He was so engrossed in staring at the window, that he did not notice the gang of vampires that were riding the other escalator upward. They passed each other without incident and Spike stepped off, heading for the gift shop.



Giles sighed heavily. "I thought that you were ready, Spike."



"I'll be right back." Spike gave his bags to Xander and walked into the small store. Five minutes later, he came out and looked at Giles, who was seated on a bench. "I need thirty dollars."



"What on earth for? Haven't I spent enough on you tonight?" Giles nudged the bags with his shoe.



"It's not for me, you ponce. What would I need in there? It's for the Slayer." Spike held out his hand. "Some of us haven't forgotten that she is stuck at home tonight."



Giles rolled his eyes, but handed over his credit card. As soon as Spike walked back into the store, he looked at Xander. "Why is Spike buying Buffy a gift?"



"He's not. You are." Xander took a bite of the candy apple he had just picked up from the food court.



"You know what I mean. They hate each other."



"Maybe she threatened to kill him and he's making a peace offering." Xander shrugged and then swore loudly when his stick broke and the apple rolled across the floor. He tossed the stick quickly and pretended it hadn't happened.



Spike joined them, carrying a brightly wrapped package and grabbed his bags again. "Now, I'm ready."



A burly demon watched them leave. He stepped forward and crushed the apple under his boot and smiled as he looked at his companions. "And here we thought that this night was going to be dull. Boys, we just found ourselves a good time."







Buffy glanced up from the television when she heard the door open. "Spike?"



"Yeah, it's me," he called, dropping his bags beside the door. He pulled his duster off and hung it over the stair railing before he walked into the living room. "How's your back?"



"It's fine.” She muted the television and looked up at him. "I don't think you caused it. I hope that doesn't disappoint you."



"Hah, funny." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you have pain a lot?"



"It comes and goes." She shrugged so softly it was barely noticeable.



"I see." He mentally filed that away and glanced toward the darkened kitchen. "Where's Joyce?"



"She went to bed early. Headache." Buffy pointed at the television. "There's a good movie starting in ten minutes."



"Good by whose standards?" He grinned, but sat down on the sofa.



"Hey!" Buffy rolled back and grabbed a pillow, tossing it at him playfully. "I have excellent taste in movies!"



Spike put the pillow behind him. "What is it?"



"The Bodyguard. Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner."



"Oh, bloody hell! Chick flicks are awful."



"What's your favorite movie?"



"Hellraiser. Friday the Thirteenth. Halloween. Nightmare on Elm Street."



"I rest my case." Buffy giggled and shook her head. "So, how bad was shopping with Giles?"



"Not too bad. He paled a little when I took him into that punk store, but he was fine."



"You took Giles into Punk Town? I wish I could have been there for that!" She laughed again, then frowned when she remembered where she was sitting. Running her palms over the arms of her chair, she sighed and shook her head. "They don't actually have wheelchair friendly shopping at the mall."



"I got you something, actually." Spike bit his bottom lip, watching as he face brightened considerably.



"From Punk Town?" Buffy tried to remain calm, but her heart slammed in her chest at the thought of him buying her something, regardless of where it came from.



"Would that be so bad?" Spike stood and walked into the foyer to retrieve her package. "Oh, dammit! I left it in Giles’ car!"



Buffy rolled back, about to tell him that they could call him, when something shattered the front window and rolled across the floor. The flaming liquor bottle landed right in front of her and she screamed.



Spike rushed back into the living room and saw the fire. He grabbed the bottle and threw it back through the window, then yanked the blanket off her and smothered the small flame that was burning the rug. He looked at her, making sure she wasn't hurt, and the bottle flew through the window again.



"Oh god, Spike!" Buffy shouted, when the bottle shattered and the fire spread along the floor, following whatever flammable liquid was inside.



"I have to get you out!" Spike scooped her up and motioned Joyce, who had come running down the stairs, toward the door.



Joyce snatched it open and yelped when she saw a vampire, completely morphed, staring back at her. Spike kicked the door shut and laid Buffy on the floor. "They can't come in! We have to put this fire out."







Xander noticed that Spike had forgotten Buffy's package halfway across town and Giles had turned around. Xander was humming along to the radio when they turned onto Revello Drive. He was the first to notice the movement in Buffy's front yard and the first to see the smoke billowing out of the broken front window. "Giles, do you still have that supersoaker in the trunk?"



"Yes." He stopped the car halfway down the block and stepped out.



Xander met him at the trunk and grabbed a stake and the watergun. "I do hope you had it blessed."



"Always." Giles grabbed the crossbow and headed toward the Summers’ house.



They moved as one, keeping close to the shadows. As soon as Buffy's lawn was in sight, Giles kneeled down and quickly dusted two of the vampires. It caught the attention of the others and Giles nodded at Xander. "You move as fast as you can, get the water hose turned on and feed it through that broken window. We have to worry about the fire as well."



The vampires were advancing fast and Xander nodded. "Not before I smoke these." He aimed and fired, sending a steady stream of Holy Water into their faces. As he pumped and sprayed, he moved around them closer to the house.



The vampires began to howl as the water burned them and Giles did a quick count. There were seven in all. Xander had effectively sprayed all of them, causing a momentary pause. He used that to his advantage and reloaded the crossbow, quickly dusting another and taking the odds down to six against two.



Xander moved fast as he got closer to the water spigot and heard voices inside Buffy's house. He turned the knob and grabbed the hose, trying to toss it through the broken window. A hulking vampire tackled him, knocking the water gun out of his hands and sending him sprawling. Xander clawed for it, trying hard to stretch far enough to retrieve it, but the vampire kicked him in the gut. He rolled onto his back, pulled the stake from his pocket and held it upward when the demon lunged for him. A plume of dust fell around him and he grabbed his gun again, just in time to spray two vampires that were advancing.



Rolling fast, he grabbed the hose, which was gushing water and fed it through the window. He heard Giles scream at him, felt hands grip him from behind, and was tossed through the air like a rag doll.



Inside the Summers’ home, the fire was crawling up the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Joyce hacked roughly, using the fire extinguisher she had retrieved from the kitchen. Spike had one as well, but wasn't bothered by the smoke. He heard Joyce choking beside him and pushed her away. "Get out of here! I can get the rest!"



Joyce nodded and turned. She made her way back toward the front door, blinded by the smoke. "Buffy!" The spot beside the door was vacant and she screamed again. "Buffy, where are you?"



Spike looked over his shoulder, trying to see what was happening, when he heard Buffy coughing behind him. He spun, just in time to see her crawling toward the water hose. "She's here! Get her to fresh air!"



Joyce stumbled into the room and gripped Buffy under the arms, dragging her into the kitchen. She opened the back door and pulled Buffy as close as she could without making it possible for the vampires to grab her. Together, they lay side by side, both coughing so hard they could barely breathe the clean air. Finally, Buffy wheezed out, "Giles. Xander. Front yard."



"What do you want me to do, honey?"



"Put me in my chair, Mom. Give me my crossbow." Buffy pulled herself upward and tugged at Joyce. "Please? Just open the front door and let me do something!"



"No." Spike spoke up from the doorway, his face covered with ash. "It's too late."





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