AN: Hmmm... whatever could Buffy and Spike possibly have to say to each other now? ::evil laugh:: You'll never know till you read, and more importantly... well, you'll have to read to see what's more important ::grins:: Go on, go read now. Goooood puppies... ;)

beneath you
part eight

The Living Dead was in her room. The real Living Dead, as in the decomposing, nausea-causing Dead. Zombies... bleagh. She peered cautiously around the corner into the mirror at it, praying to God that she wouldn't have to slay it. Whatever it was. It was way too early in the morning to have to deal with her Calling.  

It was very... eugh-looking. Pale, ashen-looking skin. Long, stringy, sort-of-greasy blonde hair. Sunken cheeks, black bags under the eyes, a little drool at the corner of the mouth and -- Holy shit, that was her!

Buffy stumbled back, her eyes wide. Somebody was playing a trick on her -- they had to be. The, the Powers were having fun at her expense, and had actually turned her into Zombie-Buffy, only for a day, of course, and they would change her back eventually, but... Jesus, that was her?

Ewww...

Her ghastly appearance was one of two things: either she had died overnight and her bad luck with not being allowed to rest in peace had continued, or, the more obvious, more likely one -- she had failed in getting a good night's rest.

Personally, she wondered who she would be murdering for bringing her back from the dead this time, because no way in HELL was she touching the subject of a non-goodnight-sleep last night. Not after that cruelly realistic... er, um, rather, that shameful, embarrassing dream-like dream... thing.

Nobody could ever say that Buffy wasn't a clear-thinker. Because she wasn't. At least not at -- groan -- half-past six in the morning.

She wasn't even positive she remembered what day it was today. Weekday or weekend, the mornings and evenings just seemed to speed past her anymore, and it was becoming really bothersome. (Hmm. Either she was unconsciously turning herself into a mini-Giles, or she was becoming Winnie the Pooh. No offense to her Watcher, but she preferred Pooh.)

Date... date... what the hell was the day today? There was a calendar somewhere, she was positive. Dawn had some sort of obsession with time, and she'd bought about fifteen calendars to hang around the house this past summer, so Buffy knew they were there. But where exactly seemed to be the question of the moment. Oh! Ha! There! She eagerly grabbed it up, pressing her nose to it in the dark.

And frowned.

Buffy wracked her brain, staring uncomprehendingly at the numbers. It would be incredibly easy to know what day it was today if she could just remember what day yesterday was.

She blinked and flipped the page. The correct month would also be helpful.

It was a few minutes before it came to her, and she sighed, partly in relief, and partly in irritation. Relief, because hey, she wasn't as much of a space case as she thought she was, and irritation because -- grr -- it was a work day. And work was so... boring. Not that she wasn't grateful for it, because she was really grateful. Her job as a guidance/peer counselor-type person didn't pay all that much, but it definitely got her through. And, big perk, she didn't come home drenched in grease anymore.

Buffy stumbled into the bathroom, moved toward the tub and turned the showerhead on full-throttle with scalding hot water. Hot water good. Hot water would wash away those dirty, dirty... things she should most DEFINITELY not be thinking about at all, whatsoever.

Disrobing, she stepped in and promptly let out a soft, grateful moan. Hot water VERY good. It was very quick in loosening the tension in her muscles right now. She grunted softly, letting her head fall forward with a soft, wet thwack onto the wall, before straightening and grabbing her pretty green mesh sponge.

Lathering it up with her favorite vanilla scented soap, she sighed happily as she brought the sponge down to work over her taut muscles. Just washing... just washing. Not thinking of blue-silver eyes, that penetrated you at every step. Ooh... penetration... er, NOT thinking of it. Just washing now. No reason for her to be imagining long, slightly calloused fingers wrapping around her from behind, stroking her belly. No reason at all for her to think about smooth, full pink Cupid's bow lips, tracing down the back of her neck to her shoulder, slightly cool tongue darting out to catch the warm drips of water trailing down her skin.

No reason for her to be thinking about the previously mentioned, very talented fingers of each hands, moving slowly in opposite directions: the right fingers moving up to caress and squeeze each heavy breast, the left fingers creeping slowly down her belly and slyly stroking the soft but slightly coarse brown hairs of her mound. No reason for her to imagine those naughty left fingers slipping through the warming folds and pushing gently inside of her, curling inwards instantly to make her cry out in pleasure.

It was just a happy accident that she began moving against those fingers, allowing them to slip in and out of her, while the others fingers moved from her breast to gently tweak the little knot of pleasure between her thighs. And the quaking of her legs when her insides tightened, spasming and catapulting her into an orgasm at the thought of him... well, that was an accident as well.

Buffy slumped against the wall, fingers buried between her legs, coated in her fluids as she gasped gently for air, a goofy grin crossing her lips. Nope. No reason to be thinking about him at all.

Straightening, she managed to get her hair washed and cleaned the sleep from her eyes (nothing like a climax in the shower to wake you up) before she wrapped herself in a thick velvety blue robe. Wrapping her hair in a towel, she exited her bathroom, left her bedroom, and walked out the hallway toward Dawn's room. No sound was coming from inside, so Buffy yawned, rapping sharply on the door. "Dawnie. Up. Come on, school today."

A muffled moan came from inside and Buffy pushed open the door. Tilting her head, she gazed at the bed where she supposed her younger sister was buried, hidden beneath mounds of blankets, comforters, clothes and stuffed animals. A bare foot was sticking out of the side, but other than that, there was no trace of the human lump under the covers.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Buffy walked to the bed, approaching the foot carefully before grabbing it and yanking the teenager out from under the sheets. Dawn gave a loud yelp as she hit the floor, her head shooting straight up as she jolted awake. Eyes wide, she turned to look at Buffy accusingly.

Buffy tried hard not to laugh at the sight of her sister's knotted brown hair and droopy eyelids. If Buffy had looked like a zombie when she'd woken up, it was nothing compared to her sister. And that was beyond hilarious.

Quietly, Dawn shifted onto her hands and knees before rocking back onto her heels and attempting to stand up. When she found her balance, and had an extremely tight hold on the headboard of her bed, she turned and faced her sister. Walking up to her, she muttered, "That was the fifth time this week. Next time you do it, I'll tie your arms and legs together, and give you a haircut."

That would, in fact, be a threatening thing to happen to anyone, since Dawn's haircuts didn't exactly put you on the Hollywood A-list. Malibu Barbie had been involved in an unfortunate incident when Dawn had wielded the scissors for the first 'professional' time, and Xander was still wary of allowing any sharp objects in Dawn's vicinity when he was around.

Buffy smiled, leaning in. "That might be scary if, number one, I was scared of you, and number two, you weren't grounded." Dawn's face melted into a pout and Buffy quirked her lips, patting her sister's back. "Go on, scoot. Get ready. School. Xander'll be here to pick us up regular time, so get moving."

Groaning and protesting, Dawn shuffled off toward the main bathroom.

After a minute, the sound of the shower spray turning on, and the smell of Dawn's lavender shampoo permeating the air effectively roused Buffy (though not as effectively as her own shower-romp did) and she yawned one last time before moving to her dresser drawers. She cringed as she thought of going downstairs. Though she didn't exactly have super-hearing like a vampire, she could still hear pretty damn well, and she'd been pretty certain that Giles had been muttering on and on about Spike's soul until about three A.M.

She was praying to God that he was too knackered to jump on her and ask more questions before she left.

She stopped and frowned for a moment. Okay, she'd been around way too many British people in the last seven years if she was starting to use their slang now.

Luckily for her, when she and Dawn raced down the steps to Xander's impatient honking, Giles had been completely conked out on the couch. Problem was, she had a feeling she wouldn't be as lucky when she came home.

The day passed without too much anxiety on her part. Sure, she was fidgety. And sure, Susan (the other counselor), the secretary, and even Principal Wood kept giving her strange looks when (at one point) she attempted to balance a pencil, tip down, on the end of her nose. But she wasn't edgy or anything. She was dreading going home and hearing Giles say, "Now, Buffy, if you could..." one more time, but she was just fine otherwise.

"Principal Wood? I was wondering if you could get me an extra key to the school, so I can stay here late to do a little work? Not too long, just from closing till tomorrow morning. See, I have this strange old British guy living at my house, who can't seem to get over the fact that my British ex-boyfriend/boy-toy is a vampire who went to Africa and got himself a soul through a bunch of tests from a weird freaky demon, and now he won't stop asking me about it."

Buffy covered her eyes and giggled. She could just imagine the completely dumbfounded look on the poor man's face as he tried to answer her.

Unfortunately for her, she was now on her way home. She REALLY had to learn how to drive. Getting hauled around by Xander was slightly annoying. Especially since Giles had let slip about a certain --

"-- VAMPIRE!"

Buffy cringed and grabbed Xander's arm, pulling him back into the second lane on the proper side of the road. "I know, Xander. Slayer, remember? Spidey sense and all that? Plus, all the times I've seen the 'grr' face?"

Xander glanced at her, shoving her hand off of him, an ugly scowl gracing his normally adorable features. "Don't be sarcastic, Buffy! He's a vampire, the very same vampire that tried to kill you, that tried to kill me and Will, that tried to RAPE you, that --"

"Took off for four months to Africa to get a soul because of how guilty he felt for it, Xander!"

Buffy sank back. Ooh, here came Dawn's defense. She shook her head and glanced out the window, suddenly feeling very cold and very alienated.

"Dawn, stay out of this! That disgusting thing doesn't need you defending him!"

"Yes, he does, when he isn't even here to do it for himself! Xander, back off! I don't care how you feel about him, but Spike has a soul now, and it's because he felt guilty! How many soulless vampires do you know that can feel guilt, Xander? Guilt so bad that they'd run off and get their soul back, WILLINGLY? Just so they could make sure that they wouldn't do something so bad ever again?"

As much as he wanted to, Xander couldn't find a response to that. At least not yet. He would, but for now, he sat there at the stop light, stewing.

It really didn't help that Dawn had a point. Even Angelus hadn't wanted his soul back after he'd lost it.

After another moment's silence, in which the traffic light had been green for half a minute before the cars behind him had started honking and flicking him off, Xander glanced at Buffy again. "Where is he now?"

Buffy glanced down at her hands. "His old crypt."

"Is he alright? Feeling any after effects from the re-souling?"

Buffy looked at him, a bit taken aback. "N-No... Not that I know of anyway."

"Good," Xander muttered.

Buffy turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Dawn, who shrugged in response. The Slayer glanced back at her best friend. "Good? What do you mean, 'good,' huh? Since when do you care for Spike's well-being?"

He glowered at her. "I don't. But so long as he's doing all right, then you won't feel some sort of misjudged sympathy for the poor insane beastie and invite him to live with you."

From zero to Mega-Bitch in .001 seconds. "Pull the car over, right now."

Xander glanced at her again, startled at the sudden venom in her voice, but he complied with her wishes, pulling over near the Sunnydale Elementary School playground. As soon as he parked, Buffy shoved open the door. "Xander, out, now. Dawn, stay in here." She glanced meaningfully at her sister. "I don't want you to hear any of this."

Dawn's eyes widened slightly at the malice she heard, nodding quickly.

Xander gulped and followed Buffy out of the car. This was it. He'd managed to open his mouth one too many times.

The teenager watched as Buffy led Xander away to about a hundred feet behind the car. Turning in her seat, she got onto her knees, peering intently at them as Buffy let all hell break loose, ranting, screaming her head off, pacing like a caged lion and flailing her arms all over the place, while Xander backed away slowly, looking beyond terrified.

After about a minute and a half of this, Buffy finally stood still, her tiny hands resting on her hips, her head cocked to one side as she gazed intently at the ground before she began to speak again. Xander was swallowing repeatedly, and from what Dawn could see, he seemed to be twitching; the muscle in his jaw was jerking spasmodically, and his eyes were doing some sort of weird blinky thing.

Dawn grinned to herself. Whatever Buffy was telling him had certainly rid Xander of any of his open-mouth-insert-foot syndrome. And to top it all off... she was defending Spike. This was a freaking milestone.

"... had to defend myself to you, Xander. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough for you. When I made mistakes, you came down on me like you had a right to, like you were my father. You can't do that. You insinuate yourself into my life and try to make my decisions for me, and, hey, know what? That's exactly what Riley did, and look how he and I ended up, Xander! Are you hearing me?"

The man nodded slowly, as if frightened she would lash out at him in another fit of rage. Her earlier fit had shocked him into utter terror. He'd never heard Buffy use half of the words that she'd said just then.

"For years, I've been utterly terrified to disappoint any one of you: you, Willow, Giles. I've had to live up to your expectations of Perfect Buffy since I was sixteen years old, and I'm almost twenty-two. Almost twenty-two, and I've been afraid to be anything less than what you expected of me, scared to make mistakes, scared to take chances and trust MY instincts, for the last seven years."

She straightened and stared him directly in the eyes. "No more. I broke a man's heart because I was terrified of what you'd think of me, and I nearly drove him insane from that heartbreak. Because I wanted to be Perfect Buffy for you. I don't care what the hell he's done to me -- it's nothing that I didn't do to him. He tried to rape me? Guess what? I've forced myself on him. He's tried to kill me? Yeah, I've tried to kill him too. So what? We were mortal enemies, we were supposed to do that; it was in the fucking job description!

"How many times has he beaten me up? If you're stuck on that, then you don't pay as much attention as you should. Remember my birthday? The raccoon look he was sporting?" Xander nodded. "I did that to him. I beat him to a bloody pulp, and I left him in front of the police station so I could turn myself in for a murder that I never even committed. He was trying to protect me and I did that to him. So much for him beating ME up. He's never once laid his hands on me that badly, Xander."

Xander looked down and swallowed. He'd known before what Buffy was capable of -- there wasn't a lot that she wasn't capable of, her being the Slayer and all. But he'd never thought that Spike could do something to anger her or scare her so badly that she would turn his face into a mottled punching bag.

"And he still came back to me. After all I did to him, he still came back, was still there if I ever needed to talk, still there to protect me, still there to give me an out if I ever chose to accept it. And I never did, because I wanted to be the good girl -- for you, for Willow, and for Giles. Know what? I'm sick of being your fucking Good Girl. He made a mistake, and he took off to Africa so he could fix it. So Xander -- hey, look at me!" Xander's eyes shot right back up to her face. She continued.

"So don't you dare even think of treating him like the scum of the earth. Because that's all he thinks of himself as. No matter how many times he's tried to change, we've all done something to push him back down to that level, you especially. You more than anybody. And now, he doesn't think he's good enough for anything. That he doesn't deserve anything. You, and me, and Willow, and Giles, fucking GILES, who's supposed to be the patriarch and teach us NOT to ridicule people who try. We ALL did that to him. So I don't care what the fuck you do, Xander. But I'm going to do everything in my power to fix it. I owe him that. And in all honesty, if you don't like it? Kiss my ass. Because I don't care anymore, Xander, I really don't."

The Slayer receded again, and Buffy turned to storm back to the car, opening the door and sliding inside, slamming the door shut. Xander sidled along for a bit before he looked after her and sighed, following her. She was right. She was always right.

God he hated it when she was right. He always felt like such a dick afterwards.

The ride back to Revello Drive was made in silence. Buffy had abdicated the front passenger seat, instead opting to sit in the back. Since it was a rarity that Dawn ever got to ride in the front seat of Xander's car when Buffy was there, she'd snatched up the vacancy, reasoning that if Buffy was in her 'kill' mood right now, it would be altogether pointless to leave Xander alone to stew in his own fear. At least he'd gotten the message and kept his mouth shut the rest of the way home.

Anya was waiting on the front porch when they arrived. She took one look at Xander's despondent face, Buffy's radiating anger (not to mention her irritability factor) and Dawn's smug smirk, then crossed her arms and sighed. "Giles shut the door in my face. You live here, so... you know. Open it. Please."

Dawn raised her eyebrows, reaching for her house key. "What did he do that for?"

Anya shrugged. "I don't know. He's the one who called and asked me to come over. So I hauled ass over here, thinking there was some big apocalypse-y thing going down, as if the last one wasn't enough, and Giles answered the door. By the way, did you know Willow's back? I mentioned that to him, because she was standing at the door, so I asked if she was still evil. He said no, so I asked her how it felt to flay some annoying little horndog like Warren, and she winced, and Giles got grumpy and shut the door in my face. I've been knocking for almost half an hour, and he still hasn't let me in since. The big British git."

Buffy raised her eyes to Anya's, giving her a small half-smile as Dawn opened the door, following her younger sister into the house. "It's the tact, right? You weren't tactful about it; that's why Giles got grumpy. Remember, Ahn, Willlow's still suffering from this whole debacle. She still can't exactly cope with the things she did, but she's getting better. Try to ignore the Evil Willow part of her for a while. Just until she's ready to talk to all of us about it."

Anya tilted her head, then shrugged again, nodding. "Sure, whatever." She waited until Xander had gone in before poking him in the back. "So what did you do now?"

Xander turned back and scowled at her. "If you must know, I opened my big mouth again, okay? I am the freaking King of the Big Mouths. Are you satisfied?"

Anya smirked and shoved past him into the living room. "Not as much as you think I am."

Buffy sighed as she set her things down on the dining room table. They had only just gotten inside and Anya and Xander had already started bickering. Funny, how the sex aspect of their relationship had covered that up in the past. She turned to Dawn. "You want pizza, Chinese, or chicken tonight?"

Dawn glanced at her, then wracked her brain. "Uh... Chinese? I don't think we've had it for a while. Giles keeps cooking for us. Can we get snow peas, and chow mein?"

Buffy nodded. "Go grab the phone. Order sweet and sour chicken and pork, uh, snow crab, and, uh, egg rolls, too. Oh, and don't forget the batter-dipped shrimp, I'm in the mood to binge tonight. And Dawn, could you also get me a bottle of water and an Advil?" The arguing between Anya and Xander reached a rock concert decibel, and Buffy winced. "I've got the feeling I'm gonna need it."

Dawn nodded, grinning. "Will do. You gonna go get Giles?"

Buffy sighed. "If he hasn't managed to hear that racket, I'm gonna have to."

In a minute, armed with her water bottle, and the Advil slowly taking affect in her bloodstream, the Slayer trudged up the steps toward Willow's bedroom. Knocking gently, she opened the door.

Willow was sitting on the bed, staring up at Giles, who was pacing around her, lecturing. Willow's green eyes caught sight of Buffy's, and the relief was almost unmistakable, that Buffy had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Her former Watcher hadn't even heard her knock.

"Um, Giles?" Willow spoke, grabbing hold of his sweater and tugging gently. Giles stopped mid-tirade, which Buffy was sure had been influenced by Anya's tactlessness, and turned around.

"What -- oh, Buffy. Yes, of course. How was your day?" he asked, running a hand wearily over his eyes.

The young woman shrugged. "It went. I got there, I did the work, I talked to the kids, I did more work, and I came home. That's about it. Now my question is, why is it that you told Xander about Spike's soulfullness?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Giles didn't fail, and he gave her an appropriately abashed look. "I apologize. I was excited, and you know that things tend to... slip out when that happens. Xander called earlier, and I had been pouring over the old books, trying to find mention of anyone in Spike's case."

Buffy shook her head. "Whatever. I gave him a good talking to for trying to make me feel bad and guilty. He won't be protesting anymore. At least, he better not be." She crouched down beside the bed and smiled. "Hey, Will. How's it going?"

Willow gave her friend a tentative smile in return and let out a deep sigh. "It goes. And it goes. Sometimes it feels like it goes forever, but at least that's getting better, you know?"

Buffy nodded. "Good to hear. Dawn's ordering Chinese downstairs, you feeling up to it? Unless you don't want to hear Anya and Xander screaming at each other, then it's understandable."

Willow shrugged. "I think I can manage." The redhead got up from her seat and moved toward the door with a grace unknown. To Buffy, it looked as if she were floating. And that had to be a good thing. Bad, evil things skulked, nice, good things floated. Or glided. Or prowled, or something, whatever worked.

Buffy started to follow her friend when Giles held her back for a moment. "Er, Buffy, could I ask you a favor?"

Buffy groaned and began moving quickly to the stairs. "No, Giles! I've already told you all I know!"

Giles followed her as fast as he could. "It's just a small favor, Buffy, really, nothing at all like you're thinking!"

"No, Giles!"

"I just want you to bring Spike here, that's all!"

Buffy turned, her eyes wide. Bring Spike... here? After everything that had happened? After that... mockery of a dream she'd had last night? Giles wanted her to bring him back to the house?

"Uh-uh!"

"Buffy, please, if you would just --"

"NO!"

At this point, the rest of the group had surrounded them at the bottom of the stairs and were looking on in mild confusion and bemusement. "Buffy," Giles continued. "I just want to talk to him, find out how he feels, what he remembers, that sort of thing. It's just a simple request! Bring him here!"

"N-O, Giles! Don't you think he'd be a little too overwhelmed with you badgering him from every which way? You'd drive the poor guy insane!"

Giles frowned at her. "You told me he was feeling fine. Perfectly normal. In fact, he hadn't changed a bit, but for the regret and other small things."

Buffy paused. "I... I did. And he... is. But that doesn't mean he'll enjoy having questions thrown at him. The old Spike didn't like that much, either!"

"Well perhaps if you were to stay in here with him, or Dawn, someone he feels comfortable with, just go and get him!"

Buffy pouted. "I don't wanna."

Dawn perked up. "I'll do it!"

At once, Buffy and Giles turned to her and said, in unison, "No, you won't!"

Dawn scowled. "But Buffy won't go get him, and Spike trusts me, so why won't you let me do it?"

Buffy glared at her. "Um, because you're grounded, for sneaking off and lying to me about where you've been going, and not even telling me that Spike was back in the first place?"

Dawn stopped, then sheepishly admitted, "Oh, yeah." Then she frowned. "But he asked me not to tell and I promised! I couldn't break a promise!" Buffy remained steely. Dawn tried again. "If I can't go get him on my own, can I at least come with you? He'll be much more calm that way, at least."

Buffy stopped and looked around. Every face was gazing at her, save for Xander's, but that was expected. Groaning and stomping her foot wasn't gonna work, she knew that much. Sighing, she rolled her eyes and pointed at Dawn. "You -- stay here. I'll go and get him."

Giles smiled. He knew she'd see it his way.

"If you pry into anything private, though, Giles, I'm locking you in the basement."

Giles' smile turned into a frown. Well, that was uncalled for.

Buffy sighed again, turned, and headed out the door. "Pay the delivery guy, and if you eat all the shrimp and chicken, I'm hanging you by the toenails from the telephone wires!"

It was quite possibly the shortest search she'd ever had for him in her life, save for the time he'd escaped Giles' apartment and ended up on the Sunnydale campus grounds within two seconds, thanks to a little prodding from Willow's 'will be done' spell. Nearly five minutes after leaving the house, she'd spotted him walking on the opposite side of the street, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his faded black jeans. He'd heard her coming toward him, and she'd ducked into a hedge to avoid being seen.

She wasn't ready for him to see her. Not yet. Not after that ridiculous dream. Honestly, what on earth had possessed her to have that dream? She thought she'd gotten over that whole, 'yummy hands, yummy face, yummy everything, jump him now' phase. Now, suddenly, he was everywhere to her. Had this been what he'd gone through when he'd first realized he'd loved her?

She stayed as quiet as possible, waiting to hear his footsteps move away again, before sighing in relief and peering out from behind the bush. Looking up, she met a pair of sharp, crystalline blue eyes, and shrieked before slapping her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

Spike smiled gently; on the inside, he was rolling with laughter, but he managed to compose himself enough in her presence to indulge in a slight amusement. The Slayer was stalking him. Which held a sort of irony that could always stay hilarious.

"You do realize that, not only could I hear you, Buffy, but I could smell you as well? Not a very effective hiding job, this," he said jovially, still grinning.

Buffy glared at him. Stupid bleach-blonde hair... stupid eyes... stupid lips, and that stupid sexy smirk that she just wanted to smack right off his face, but not the way she usually did.

Oh no, she was getting over that pesky phase quite nicely.

"Spike," she greeted calmly. "Giles sent me after you. He wants to talk to you. About your soul."

Spike's smile dropped off of his face, and he scowled. "Nothing doing. I'm not gonna be Rupert's pet guinea pig here, understand?"

Buffy didn't resist the urge to reassure him. "He just wants to ask you some questions, like what you remember, blah, blah, blah. He's not going to do any tests on you, I promise. And Dawn and I will be sitting right there with you to make sure it doesn't happen."

Spike stared at her for a moment. "Can I get a decent meal out of it? The Bronze still has chicken wings, don't they?"

Buffy grinned. "We ordered Chinese food for the night." She frowned when Spike winced, but shrugged it off. He was probably grumpy that he couldn't weasel any more food out of Giles. "Will you come with me?" she asked, stretching out her hand.

Spike stood perfectly still for almost exactly a minute, before he tentatively reached forward and took her hand, ignoring the electric sparks that flooded into him at the touch. Buffy herself felt a delicious chill run down her spine and through her entire body before biting her lip and clasping his hand tightly. Pulling her up off of the ground, Spike shrugged self-consciously, then nodded. "Alright... S'pose I could."

Buffy leaned in for the finishing blow. "Dawn really wants you there..."

A tiny grin quirked the corners of his lips and he nodded slowly, but more assuredly. "Alright, then. For Nibblet." And you. Don't think I missed that shiver, love.

Buffy smiled. Turning, they set off together back toward Revello Drive, both staying a cautious few places apart, but nonetheless as close as the sidewalk forced them to be.

After a long silence, Spike spoke up. He couldn't resist himself. He could feel Buffy's heat radiating off of her, her sweet vanilla scent was plugging up his senses, and they were doing those damn, stupid, naughty, unspeakable things to him. So, naturally, his tongue was as loose as a drunkard's.

"Buffy. Have any particular dreams last night?"

Buffy's eyes instantly widened, but she managed to turn to him with an air of nonchalance. At once, the thought, He knows! had sprung to her mind, but she clamped down on it. It was impossible, after all. Spike couldn't read her mind, no matter how damn perceptive he was. "Not that I remember..." She replied cautiously.

Spike smiled to himself. Her heartbeat had just bounced out of control. "Sure of that, are you? 'Cos a mighty funny thing happened last night..."

Buffy cringed, anticipating the blow. Oh no, oh no...

Spike continued. "See, I came for a little visit after you left. Just to check up on you, mind you; you'd seemed a tad... out-of-sorts. Well, when I got to your house, I could have sworn you were saying my name. Sounded a bit like you were in trouble. So my guess is, you were having a nightmare, right?"

Buffy instantly relaxed. He doesn't know, he doesn't know! "Oh, uh... right. Probably. Could have been one of those stupid Slayer dreams..." That I haven't had since after Faith woke up from her coma three years ago...

Spike nodded. "'S all I wanted to know. You alright?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure. Fine. Better than fine. Peachy keen. Absolutely perfect." Okay, he gets it! STOP RAMBLING! She grinned widely. And unconvincingly.

But that seemed enough for Spike.

At least, until they got to the house.

"So, was I any good?"

Buffy nodded, a goofy smile crossing her lips as she unlocked the door, slumping against it slightly. "Oh... definitely. Amazing… absolutely amazing," she gushed unconsciously. Then her jaw snapped shut, the smile faltering and flickering before disappearing altogether. She stood up straight. Then blinked before slowly turning to look him in absolute disbelief.

A large grin curled Spike's lips, and he gazed at her expectantly, eyebrows raised, when the door shuddered against her sudden dead weight. She opened her mouth to speak, but some way or another, her voice was lost en route past her lips and all that escaped was a tiny, terrified squeak. Her face turned beet red, and she could feel her ears begin to burn. Horrified with herself, she turned slowly back toward the door, her hazel green eyes wide and stunned.

"I did not say that... I did not say that. I didn't say that..." she muttered as she entered the house.

Spike's low, amused chuckle as he followed her inside was her only response.

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