Karma Chameleon

Characters/Pairings you want the story to focus in: Prefer S/B

Characters/Pairings you want in the story too.: Whoever fits into your story. No slash pairings, please.

Things you want: I'd love an early BtVS S6 fic where Buffy and Spike are friend-like; include alcohol, the decapitation of some demon, and snark.

Things you don't want: No slash, hint of angst, no pure PWPs.

Extras: NC-17 and choose your own genre.

a/n- I kinda screwed up, I thought I remembered the "hint of angst" being thing under the "Things you want" instead of the "Things you don't want". It wasn't until I had it finished and sent for betaing that I realized my mistake. And I NEVER write angst! Gah! I can rewrite this for the person who requested this, if it's a total big deal. I would have gone more Life Serial than Afterlife if I had realized it before!! But hey, it's on time! That's good, right?

Thanks to Jeni70 who beta'd the first part of this a while ago, (it has changed a lot since then!) and major thanks to SpikesKat who got this whole thing beta'd in less than 8 hours. *claps loudly* Thank you so much!!

Spike couldn't do anything but stare into her beautiful face. This exquisite angel he thought he'd never see again, who he believed would never look at him with those haunting wide green eyes. He blinked sharply. Once. Twice. Looking down, he studied the small pair of raw bloodied hands gently encased in his. Hands that were warm and pulsing with life. Further proof that this was not another tortured dream. This was real, Buffy was really back. This was not the bloody bot that had tormented him daily by wearing Buffy's face. It was really her. For a night that had started off as a pretty good imitation of hell, it was ending as close to heaven as Spike knew he was likely to ever see.

The front door burst open and Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya threw themselves across the threshold. "Is she here?" they asked frantically.

With a resolve that made Spike proud, Dawn took them on, demanding to know what they'd done. Fuckin' Scoobies and their bloody interfering magic. He should have known they were responsible. Fury swept through him, fierce and intense, a wildfire of anger rushing through the dry brush of his mind. Spike couldn't take it; he had to get away from them. Someone was about to pay a very dear consequence and that someone would not possess the last name Summers. Blood was about to be shed, and he had enough sense to know that his anger was not in Buffy's best interest.

Head down, Spike strode for the door, hands fisted tightly, his jaw clamped shut with anger, as he tried to block out Red and the Whelp who were excitedly trying to report their interference. Only they obviously didn't see it that way, as they self-congratulated each other, totally blind to the big picture.

If not in possession of vampiric hearing, he would have missed the low cry of distress that sounded behind him. He would always know her voice, it haunted his dreams. Stopping dead in his tracks, he slowly allowed himself to turn around and looked into Buffy's pleading green eyes. He could see the tears that threatened to fall behind that bleak green background, and he wanted to weep for her. He knew how much she hated to show weakness to anyone, least of all him. Buffy's eyes begged him not to go, her entire body taut with desperation. Him. Spike. William the Bloody. A vampire. Buffy desperately wanted him to stay.

Tipping his head up to the ceiling, Spike allowed his eyes to drift shut briefly and let out a slow measuring breath, making a visible effort to push his anger away. Buffy didn't need his fury, she needed him.

Managing to take the lethal edge off his temper, Spike strode back into the room and didn't stop until he had placed himself between Buffy and her so called group of friends. They were too busy reliving their glory and deciding what Buffy needed that they were completely missing the panicked look on the Slayer's face. A fresh wave of fury rolled through Spike, he felt like a virtual volcano just waiting to erupt. And the Scoobies had no idea what kind of lava they were about to unleash. They had long since forgotten how dangerous Spike really was, becoming dependent on his inability to harm humans. If they only knew, he thought bitterly.

"Thought you were out the door, Fangless. As you can see, Buffy is back. Thanks for all the help, but... please. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out," Xander commented snidely.

Four sets of eyes looked at him with something akin to outraged shock. "And....excuse me? Don't recall anybody asking for your input," Xander said, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to manage an effective glare.

With a menacing step forward that suddenly reminded Xander of the old pre-chipped days, Spike growled, "Get the bloody hell out of this house, and don't step foot back here until either Dawn or Buffy give you the invite."

Willow stepped forward. "Hey! We ARE the ones who just got her out of the ground, you know!"

A bit taken aback by Spike's sudden hostile attitude, Tara looked at Buffy. And what she saw made her heart sink. Buffy was staring at Spike with a look of such profound gratitude that it was obvious their presence in this house was causing her distress. Deciding that Buffy needed to be alone, Tara turned to the others and said, "Come on, you guys. Let's leave Buffy and Dawn alone, ok? I think maybe they need some quiet time."

Xander looked at Tara with surprise. Then he realized that his best friend had just come back from the dead and he was arguing in her living room. Not so much with the quiet there. Giving the vampire a lethal glare to let him know that everything was clearly his fault, Xander turned to Dawn and asked, "Dawn, do you think you can handle things by yourself?"

Dawn gave him a disgusted look. "Like, duh." Feeling her face tighten with resolve, Dawn asked, "And besides, you could always ask Buffy what she wants, you know. She's only been talking since she was like... two"

The looks that struck the faces of Buffy's friends might have been comical at another time. It was obvious that Buffy's feelings had not been taken into consideration, but hey, no surprise there, Dawn thought bitterly. Spike stepped back so Buffy was clearly visible to them. She was perched stiffly on the edge of the couch, her hands resting nervously in her lap, her mutilated knuckles shining like a red beacon against her white shirt. Buffy looked up at them almost fearfully before casting another pleading glance to Spike.

Shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his duster, he went to go stand next to Buffy. The air was thick and pulsing with the pure hostility that action caused, and Spike schooled his face into an indifferent mask.

"So Buffster..." Xander began nervously, running his hand through his nondescript brown hair. "What do you want to do?"

Buffy's eyes were darting around nervously, finally settling on the floor. "Um.. Spike.." She began in soft halting voice.

"Ok Spike, you heard the lady. You're outta here," Xander said with glee, rubbing his hands together with anticipation. Ever since Spike had moved in to take care of Dawn, he'd been itching for this moment.

"No!" Buffy said sharply, as she stood up and faced her friends. "Spike is staying."

Hurt and confusion shone brightly in Willow and Xander's eyes as they stared at their newly risen friend. "Buffy?" Willow asked, her shocked tone asking the unspoken question 'why him???'

Buffy directed her gaze back to the floor, the emotions of her friends threatening to overwhelm her. She wrapped her arms around her stomach in a defensive gesture. "I.. uh, I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

With a maturity far belying her years, Dawn told them all to leave. Spike stared at Buffy, his heart breaking for the torment that he knew she was going through. The torment her friends had caused and still remained completely oblivious to.

"Well, gee. That's a whole lot of thanks we get for getting Buffy out of hell. You'd think she'd be a little more grateful." Anya commented bitterly. "Not to mention all the stuff we used for the spell from the Magic Box. Don't think we're going to get reimbursed for those pricey little items."

"Anya!" Xander said, but he knew it was nothing more than the rest of them had been thinking. When Xander had envisioned this moment in his mind, he had imagined Buffy throwing her grateful arms around them, tears flowing as she expressed her profound gratitude for rescuing her from endless torment. Not...this.

"I think we should let Buffy get some sleep, you guys," Tara said. After what seemed like an eternity, the people responsible for Buffy standing in her living room finally walked through the front door. Xander threw some last threatening parting words to Spike, words that Spike had heard a million times before. "You hurt her, and I'll stake you." Of course, the last few months, the threats were regarding Dawn, who Spike had been taking care of since that fateful night so long ago, keeping his promise to Buffy. They had been empty threats for the most part. The Whelp didn't know it, but Spike's chip hadn't been functioning ever since his little torture session at Glory's competent hands.

"I can go, pet," Spike said quietly, turning back to her. "Think my crypt is still empty."

Buffy looked up sharply in response to his softly spoken words, her body tense and screaming with unhappiness. She shook her head slowly. "Please don't."

Spike nodded his head, letting out a small sigh of relief. He didn't really know if he would have been able to walk out that door and leave her, especially like this. She looked so... lost. "You should go get some sleep."

"Yeah." Her answer was resigned and quiet. Dawn stepped up and took a gentle hold of one of her mutilated hands, and led Buffy up the stairs, much like parent leading a small child. Buffy just let her, which in itself was telling. His Buffy was the most self reliant girl he knew. Spike walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the top with practiced ease.

He walked back into the living room and sank down into one of the chairs, bringing the beer up to his lips and downing half of its contents in a few short gulps. Buffy was back. The love of his life was not lying in some soddin' grave. But... he would rather have her lying in the ground than being in this much pain. He couldn't stand to see her like this.

He looked up, so lost in his musings, he hadn't even heard Dawn come down the stairs. At the questioning look he gave her, Dawn said, "She wants you."

Three words that would have had him singing in happiness before, now had him cringing in pain. "She ok?"

Dawn nodded, her big blue eyes full of confusion and pain. "Yeah, I think so. I think she's just scared and a little freaked out."

Spike nodded and stood up, guzzling the rest of his beer before setting the empty bottle on the table. He took the stairs two at a time until he stood at Buffy's doorway. Suddenly, he was as nervous as a groom standing at the alter Knocking lightly, he pushed open the door and saw her standing by the window, her back to him.

Buffy turned slowly around to face him, and her face was so miserable and sad that Spike felt tears gather in his eyes. She had changed into a pair of pajamas and she was fingering the material unconsciously in a nervous gesture. "Can... you... uh, can you maybe stay... here tonight?"

Spike took a slow step into the room. "Already told you I was. I live here now. Don't know if the 'Bit told ya or not."

Spike's eyes were immediately drawn to the bed, then back at her. The pleading look was back on her face, and his gut twisted to see it. This was not his Buffy.

'Oh god, please let him say yes, please let him say yes', Buffy chanted to herself. She was trying to mask her desperation, but could feel it just rolling off of her, screaming to get out. She just wanted to throw herself into his arms and squeeze her eyes shut, knowing that he'd be there to make all the bad things go away.

"Of course, luv. You don't even need to ask." She heard him say. Oh thank god. Spike's voice was gentle, like he was talking to a spooked horse. Make that a spooked slayer, and it wouldn't be far off. Buffy saw him take off his duster, then sit on the edge of her bed and bend over to take his boots off.

Buffy nodded. Ever since she had caught sight of Spike tonight, there had been this overwhelming urge to just bury herself in his arms and let him take away all of the pain. When she saw him walk towards the door earlier, she had never felt so desolate. If he had left, she would have run after him. Her friends? They created such an overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety in her that she could feel herself practically drowning in it.

Spike saw Buffy climb into bed, then turn and wait expectantly for him to join her. Ok, so that's what she meant. He was sure she meant passing the night in the chair, but it was obvious she wanted him next to her. Not one to argue with a slayer who was asking him into bed, even if it was just for comfort, Spike slid his clothed body next to her, careful to keep some distance between them.

"I'm going to turn out the light, ok?" He saw her nod her head from where it was buried in the pillow as she laid curled on her side. As soon as the light was off, Buffy finally let go. She turned over and launched herself into Spike's arms, her whole body shaking with pent up emotion, finally allowing herself to seek the comfort she so desperately needed.

Spike, always quick on the uptake, recovered instantly and wrapped his arms around the quivering girl. "Why?" Buffy finally whispered.

Stroking her gently, Spike hesitated a moment before answering. He knew what she was asking him. "Dunno, really. Reckon your mates missed you."

An inappropriate laugh greeted that statement, and Spike tightened his arms. "My friends." The bitterness in Buffy's tone shocked Spike. The room was bathed in darkness, but Spike could make out her face, and saw her torment. It confused him, the bitterness seemed so inappropriate. Then it hit him. A thunderclap of realization. The sadness, the fear, the panic. This wasn't like the stories he'd heard of Angelus coming back from hell, with the feral wild urges. This was someone forced from somewhere they didn't want to leave. He knew where she'd been ripped from, she had been in heaven.

"They didn't save you at all, did they?" He felt the slight shake of her head, and her torment sliced deep into his very being. An axe splitting him open, cutting him to the very bone. Sighing painfully, he drew her closer, her body flush against his own. "Ah, luv. I'm so sorry."

"I know." She whispered. And she did, she could feel his pain as much as her own, and it was overwhelming. Unbidden, tears started sliding down her cheeks, to splatter against the chest she lay against. Her sobs began in earnest, and there was nothing she could do to hold them back. The floodgates had opened, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Spike didn't talk, other than murmur nonsensical things that he couldn't have repeated if he'd tried. But Buffy clung to the sound of his voice, using it as her anchor, as she purged herself of her misery. Dawn looked in at one point, and if she thought anything of seeing her sister in the arms of her former mortal enemy, she didn't comment. Spike noticed she looked a bit hurt at not being the one Buffy turned to, but he knew his 'Bit was a big girl and knew she ultimately wanted Buffy happy.

Soon the sound of her sobs faded off into silence, and Spike just basked in the glory of holding her, still unable to comprehend this was really Buffy and not the bot in his arms. Her warmth and the solid steady sound of her heartbeat filled him, further proof of her new found viability.

Her voice came hoarse and resigned through the darkness, and the words that spilled forth were unexpected. " I know about the chip."

Spike tensed, ready to bolt. His vocal cords were frozen, his entire body shut down as he became a huge mass of anticipation. "How?" He finally managed to whisper.

Spike tried to disentangle himself from her, to separate himself from all that she represented. But with all the slayer strength that she still maintained, even from beyond the grave, she locked on to him. "Spike, chill. It's ok."

Spike held himself in rigid anticipation, cursing the bloody luck that had led to this moment. He finally had Buffy turning to him for comfort, he was here in her bed, and just like that, he was relegated back to Code Evil status.

"Spike? I told you, it's ok." Buffy lifted her head up from his chest to stare at the tense, anguished face just inches away. With just a minimum of light pouring under the bedroom door, she could barely make him out, yet his pale body practically glowed. Like all the good she now knew was in him lit him up from the inside, a homing beacon for her to find. "I saw you, you know." Buffy told him.

If Spike's heart was beating, it would have been pounding with pure adrenaline alone. He felt her lay her head back against his chest, her silken tresses teasing the bare skin of his arms. Buffy pressed herself closer, as if the more of his body she was able to touch, the better she would feel. Spike allowed his arms to slip around her again, and heard her sigh of relief as she snuggled against him. "What do you mean, luv?" He finally dared to ask.

He wasn't sure she was going to answer, the silence stretched on for so long. But finally her voice sounded though, muffled and reconciled against the soft worn cotton of his t shirt. "I saw you."

With the conflicting feelings swirling around, Spike had to think about what she was talking about. But intuitive as always, it didn't take him long to make the leap. "When you were... gone, you mean." It was a statement, not a question.

Buffy's nod against his chest had his breath hitching in his throat, as the ramifications of this revelation pierced his consciousness. Bloody hell, she had been able to see what had gone on in Sunnyhell since she'd died. The patrols, his drinking binges, his rage.

Buffy lifted her head up from his chest once more, staring into his deep bottomless eyes. "Yeah, I did. But you didn't have to."

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "So that's what this is, gratitude? Not that I'm complainin', mind you. Just a bit confused, is all."

With a bittersweet smile, Buffy cupped the side of his face, her thumb lightly brushing over his angular jaw, skimming the full bottom lip. "No Spike, this isn't gratitude." She said finally. "This is me finally having seen the real you. And kinda liking what I saw."

Buffy's lips curled up into a genuine smile. "No. I was with mom. She made me watch you. I guess she'd been watching you... well, us, for a while now. She told me about the chip. Made me really look at you, who you were, even without the chip."

Spike snorted, barely able to comprehend what he was hearing. "Surprised you didn't come down here all ghostly and stake me."

An abashed look came over Buffy's face. "Have to admit, I was all on the "Staking Spike" bandwagon. But mom made me sit and watch you, like she'd been doing." Spike felt uncomfortable knowing that Joyce had been spying on him from heaven, but yet, not entirely surprised. "So I did. And I saw all you did for Dawn. How you were the only one she could turn to. How my so called friends abandoned her. And I knew."

Those words that spilled so easily from Buffy's lips had the impact of a runaway freight train. Tears spilled down Spike's cheeks, and he wiped them away, unashamed. He hugged Buffy to him, drawing her so she lay on top of him. She was his precious cargo and he was afraid to let go. Afraid if he did, she'd be gone. Again. She had told him he was her friend. He didn't think she had any idea just what that meant to him, to hear her say those words. Of course, he'd love a whole lot more than friendship, bloody worshipping the ground the girl walked on and all, but friends was a start. it was a helluva lot more than they'd had before.

With a contented sigh, Buffy fell asleep. And for the first time in four months, Spike succumbed to slumber willingly, knowing the torturous dreams were behind him.

The Scoobies met in the Summers kitchen the next morning, hat in hand and prepared to eat crow. They found Dawn eating a bowl of cereal and endured her hostile looks. Fact was, Dawn was ecstatic to have her sister back, was just angry at the backhanded manner in which it had been done.

Spike and Buffy chose that moment to enter the kitchen and all eyes turned in their direction. Buffy ignored her friends and went over to give her sister a hug.

"So, uh.. did you sleep ok?" Willow asked, happy to see Buffy looking much better than the night before.

Willow smiled, relieved, finding herself slightly uncomfortable in the house she used to live in. She and Tara had moved out of the house and back on campus not long after Buffy had jumped to save the world. "Good. I was afraid you might have some, you know, nightmares, or something."

Buffy shrugged, but didn't say anything. She still felt too emotionally drained to go into anything right now.

With an evil glint, Dawn announced, "Oh she was in good hands. Well, arms actually. Spike held her all night."

As predicted, that went over well. Xander's face turned red and he looked ready to explode, Willow's face flashed anger, hurt and disgust simultaneously, Anya just looked pissed off, and Tara just eyed the two contemplatively.

Before Xander could open his mouth to lash out at Spike, Buffy cut him right off. Drawing herself up in such a manner that left little doubt that this was indeed truly Buffy before them, her face tightened into determination and anger. "No, we are so not going there. Spike has nothing to do with this."

Spike leaned back against the counter and watched Buffy at work, appreciating the support.

"Oh gee, just thought he slept in your bed last night." Xander announced snidely, his intolerance for the blonde vampire resurfacing the moment Buffy had entered their lives once more. While she had been gone, Spike had proved useful, taking care of Dawn and providing the super human strength necessary to dispatch whatever evil was flung their way. If Xander was honest with himself, he would have admitted there was no way that they would have gotten away with the duplicity of letting the world believe Buffy was still alive if it hadn't been for Spike's assistance. But that knowledge did nothing to temper his resentment that it was SPIKE that Buffy had turned to, rather than the ones responsible for her resurrection.

Buffy's face shut down, her posture became even more impossibly rigid. "Ok, that's so it. I had kinda hoped to wait on this one, but I don't want to listen to this anymore. Sit down and shut up, because I'm just going to say this one time, then I want you all out of here."

Her friends, taken aback by the coldness in her voice, complied as requested. When they were seated, Buffy went to stand next to Spike, taking comfort in his close proximity. "Ok, first I just want to clear something up. I wasn't in hell." She let them absorb that before continuing. "I was in Heaven. So if I don't seem grateful for the rescue, yeah well.. not so much."

She looked around at the dazed horrified faces of her friends, and did not feel comforted by the pain her revelation had brought. "And the next thing I want to clear up. I was able to see all of you while I was dead." She ignored the gasps that echoed around the room. "And you know what I saw?" Buffy looked over at Dawn, who had tears rolling down her cheeks. "I saw my sister being ignored. The most important thing in my life, and she was ignored. Call me selfish girl, but that's not something I thought my friends would do. God, even my own Watcher ran back to England almost as soon as my casket was lowered in the ground. Some loyalty, huh?"

Dawn crossed the kitchen to throw herself into Buffy arms, relieved at learning her sister hadn't been tortured in hell. Buffy hugged her back, then directed her gaze back across the kitchen. "Who took care of her when I was dead?"

Bitter silence met this question. "Spike did, didn't he?" Buffy answered her own inquiry.

Xander gave an uncomfortable shrug. "It's not like the chipped wonder had anything better to do."

"Really? Well, seeing as how his chip hasn't worked since Glory tortured him, I think he could have found a hundred things better to do then to take care of the the teenage sister of the slayer. But he still stuck around and did what I asked of him before I jumped." Buffy revealed.

"His chip doesn't work anymore?" Xander asked, his voice rising with unconcealed panic.

Spike's lip curled with contempt. "Please. Hasn't worked all bloody summer, and haven't taken a bite out of anybody."

Xander had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. Buffy sent them out of the house after dire warnings to leave Spike alone, and it was a cheerless group who walked down the stairs of 1630 Revello Drive. Even Tara, whose guilt over her part in the resurrection was overwhelming, knew she was just as guilty as the others. They had abandoned Dawn to the vampire, and done so willingly, glad to have someone to pick up the slack. Someone who could apparently handle the willful emotional teen.

When Spike, Buffy and Dawn were finally alone once again, Spike held his arms open, knowing instinctively what both of his girls needed. They both threw themselves into his protective embrace, and held each other. Tears were shed, and promises were made.

Later that day, Giles arrived. Knowing they were not welcome in the house, the others did not accompany him. The Watcher's reception was chilly, at best, even though the emotion showing through on the man's face were almost painful for Spike to witness. But he also had abandoned Dawn with no excuse, so Giles had an idea of what he would be walking into.

Giles made an attempt to talk to Buffy without Spike in the room, and while Spike was more than willing to give her that privacy, she adamantly refused. She told her former Watcher in so many words that Spike was going to be a part of her and Dawn's life now. Giles didn't feel at that point that he was in a position to argue. Although he was unnerved by the revelation that Spike's chip was no longer active.

From a Council standpoint, Giles was truly astounded at the knowledge that Spike had been unrestrained all those months, and had not resorted back to his previous nature. They had all been guilty of dumping Dawn on him, until at times he became her sole caretaker, finally moving into the house for the sake of convenience. And they had all let it happen. Giles himself had fled to England, needing to escape the memories. He knew he had run away, so when Buffy informed him of his demoted status in her life, he knew it was more than just.

As the days passed by, Spike kept a close eye on his Slayer, pleased to note that her smile came quicker and easier as time went on. Her unhappiness was still a present enemy, but she was in no way the desolate creature that had emerged from beyond the grave. Spike knew it would take her time to get over the eternal bliss she had experienced in heaven, and he was more than willing to give her all that she needed.

Spike continued to sleep in her room instead of her mum's at her insistence, and while things had not escalated past a "friends-only" status, they were aware it was only a matter of time before the inevitable occurred. They were too close, both enjoying the other far too much for nature not to take its course. It was no longer an issue of her being the slayer and Spike a vampire. They were merely a man and woman getting to know each other as friends before taking that next step. Spike was continually amazed at the change in her, in how she now treated him. It was more than he'd ever hoped for, and it gave him a chance to show her just how serious his devotion was. And all it took was a little dying for them to see each other in a different light, he would often think wryly.

On the one month anniversary of her resurrection, Dawn suggested a party and was shocked when Buffy actually agreed to it. So Buffy's "Back to Life" Party was planned, and the Scoobies were invited. They had not seen Buffy since that fateful morning in her kitchen, actually honoring her adamant refusals to hook up. So it was with great trepidation that they arrived at the small intimate gathering.

"Should we ring the doorbell, or what?" Xander asked, hearing the faint laughter pouring through the door. He hated this hesitant feeling, not sure if they would be welcome to just walk in like they had in the old days.

Anya gave him a pointed look and reached over to press the doorbell, keeping her finger on the button far longer than necessary. Xander batted her hand away and threw her an exasperated look.

"I think they heard it, Ahn," he commented unnecessarily. Anya shrugged and looked away, a bored look set on her face.

The door flew open and Dawn stood there, laughing at something being said in the background. Her face quickly turned serious and she gave each one of them a measuring glance before stepping back and allowing them passage. "Come on in."

The level of discomfort the Scoobies were experiencing just shot right off the scale with the less than friendly reception. So with shoulders hunched and hands shoved in pockets, the four Scoobies crossed over the threshold.

"Merciful Zeus," Xander muttered, standing shock still as he surveyed his surroundings. The house had been turned into a virtual house of hell, and they looked at Dawn questioningly. Dawn and Spike had decorated the house by littering the walls with Dawn of the Dead posters, and hanging up black crepe paper and balloons, making it as morbid as they could.

Dawn shrugged nonchalantly. "We decorated." She offered no further explanation as she brushed past them into the kitchen. Unable to do anything else; Tara, Willow, Xander, and Anya followed.

What they found in the kitchen was even more out of character than the obscure decorations. Spike and Buffy were pressed closely together at the kitchen island, a big frosted white sheet cake in front of them. Each had in their possession a bakery decorating bag complete with fancy tip. Spike was the very picture of concentration, capable hands squeezing black icing delicately through the tip, his tongue just peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Whatever he was creating had Buffy in a fit of laughter, as she attempted to add her own touches to the cake.

Buffy looked up in response, a bit of the light going out of her face at the sight of her friends standing there. Still managing to maintain her light mood, she replied, "It's going good. I think Spike used to be a cake decorator or something."

Spike snorted from his position next to her. "It's called art, luv. Not my fault you can't draw to save your life."

"Yeah, I so can't." Buffy agreed easily, grabbing the almost emptied beer on the counter and guzzled it down.

"Right. It's MY Back-from-the-Dead party, dammit. I can drink what I want," Buffy commented churlishly.

Spike didn't respond, just arched one eyebrow sardonically and continued to keep his unnerving look pinned on her. "What?" She finally exclaimed. "I can so handle my alcohol."

The doorbell rang again, and the Scoobies practically trampled themselves in their effort to leave the room. A minute later, the forced jovial group returned with Giles in tow. "Look who's here!" Xander called out. "Now the party can really begin!"

Buffy and Spike exchanged glances, barely refraining the urge to roll their eyes. "Whelp, go get yourself a bloody beer, will ya?" Spike instructed, going back to his creation. "They're in the other room."

"Well yes! That is so what I need right now," Xander announced, responding to Spike's friendly tone. He make a hasty retreat into the living room, with the other three not far behind. It weighed on all of them to be the odd people out with Buffy. If a little liquid encouragement in a can was available, hey, they were so on it.

Giles stayed in the kitchen, watching the interaction between Buffy and Spike. He also had stayed away from the Summers home, guilt weighing heavily on him with a hefty side dose of self disgust thrown in. He had feared what he would find here tonight. Feared he would find a mere shell of the previous girl he loved like a daughter. But he was heartened to see that her misery had dissipated, and in fact, she appeared to be smiling far more than he could remember her ever doing so in recent history. And it didn't escape his notice that Spike was the cause of it. Spike and.... whatever he was doing to that cake.

"Good God, what ever are you doing, Spike?" Giles asked, his tone slightly condescending.

This time is was Spike's turn to look up sharply. "I'm bloody decorating it, is what." He bent back over the rectangular confection, face completely intent, as he changed the color of icing.

Buffy began to feel a bit restless, so she got up and paced. She picked up a small light sword from the weapons bag on the floor and began to idly slash it back and forth in a distracted manner. She looked back over at the two Brits who were debating the merits of what defined art and if cake decorating fit that definition, and she sauntered back over to where Spike was working so diligently.

She couldn't have said what possessed her, it was as if someone else had taken control of her actions. Or maybe it was the almost one full beer that she had just drank that did it. At least that is what she would claim later on, anyway.

The hiss of steel sounded through the air followed by a loud slapping noise, and Spike looked up from his decorative creation in abject horror. "You bloody bitch. I can't believe you just did that."

Spike threw himself to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor in the aftermath of his furious flight, as he stared down at the sword impaled in the counter top. "You're going to bloody pay for that one." He growled.

The others ran back into the kitchen to investigate the source of the noise. "What happened?" Willow asked, trying to process what she was seeing in front of her.

Spike turned gold-tinged eyes in their directions, his face set in a mask of cold fury. "Buffy," he ground out, "beheaded my demon." He turned his accusing eyes back in her direction. When he saw Buffy's lips purse together as she tried to contain her laughter, he advanced on her, threatening, "You better not be fucking laughing about this, Slayer. I worked hard on that."

Buffy took another look at his seriously pissed off face and with a hoot of laughter, ran out of the kitchen, leaving a snickering group of Scoobies and an infuriated vampire behind.

With his natural instincts firmly in place, Spike gave chase, his growls reverberating throughout the house, Buffy took her flight outside, almost blinded by her mirth. It came as absolutely no surprise to her when she found herself tackled to the ground before too long. Her prolonged hysteria had practically leeched the strength from her body, tears streaming easily down her cheeks. Buffy didn't know what she found funnier, the fact that she'd actually done something as lame as chopping her "Welcome Back from the Dead" cake in half with a sword or the fact that Spike had gotten so seriously bent about it. It was just... funny. Hysterical, more like it. Just picturing the totally outraged look on Spike's face was enough to send her into a fresh peal of giggles.

Then in a blinding rush of sensation, Buffy realized she had one very pissed vampire spread out on top of her, his hard length pressing her into the ground as he entrapped her wrists over her head easily with one hand. Suddenly it didn't seem quite as funny, as a jolt of desire struck her. Buffy looked up into Spike's stormy blue eyes that were quickly becoming clouded with need.

"Oh, you're gonna be," Spike replied gruffly, swooping his head down to finally capture her lips in a searing kiss, both losing themselves in the moment.

The Scoobies stumbled onto their entwined figures moments later, actually having feared for Buffy's safety after witnessing Spike's enraged reaction to Buffy's actions.

Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara, Dawn, and Giles stared at the oblivious duo on the grass in Buffy's backyard with mixed reactions.

"God, it's about damn time!" Dawn injected, turning around and heading back into the house. The others filed behind her and continued Buffy's "Back from the Dead" party without her presence. And when a slightly disheveled Spike and Buffy finally reentered the house, not a word was said about the new developments.

Dawn served the cake with the sword still firmly in place, where it had clearly separated the head from the intricate vampire Spike had created. Buffy got a fresh case of the giggles when she saw it again, but this time Spike silenced her with a searing kiss. Life was good.