But as it got later and later, Buffy started wondering if he was coming out at all. His duster was draped over the couch,  which led her to believe he hadn't pulled off some sort of "escape" attempt. She wondered if he was avoiding her, as she  had planned to do with him.

Finally, Buffy got up, walking towards the room where he was sleeping, her curiosity getting the better of her. She  gasped as soon as she opened the door. Not only was Spike still asleep, but she learned something about him she hadn't  known before—he slept completely nude.

Buffy gaped, knowing she should just turn and walk out of the room, but unable to tear her eyes away from the man in  front of her. She'd always assumed he had quite a body under all that black leather, but this... She willed her mouth to  snap shut again, cursing the Powers that Be. It wasn't fair that her mortal enemy be that gorgeous. Mortal enemies  should be slimey, she decided. With jagged horns. And a strange body odor.

Not this. Not gorgeous, pale muscle, tight perfection like a marble statue. Unable to resist, she trailed her eyes up his  body, allowing herself this one good view of a beautiful sight she didn't plan to ever see again.

When her gaze made it back to his face, Buffy realized she was staring into deep blue. She gulped. Spike was awake,  and she was caught.

Spike stretched, giving her an even better view than what she'd had before. "Like what you see, pet?" he asked with a  lazy grin.

"I...um...I came to see...you slept later than you usually do..."

"Yeah. Sorta wore myself out last night, hacking away at the forest an' all."

"Oh." Buffy looked down, unable to force the next words out of her mouth while looking at him. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. Only let's not talk about it again. Could hurt the Big Bad image a bit."

"What, you don't want it getting around the Hellmouth that you went all Paul Bunyan as a favor for the Slayer?"

"Um, no."

Buffy glanced up again, only to be reminded he was naked and looked away again. "Could you possibly put some  clothes on?"

"What for, kitten? You certainly didn't seem to mind a minute ago..."

"Well, I do mind! I totally mind! And what's with the pet names?"

"They make you blush."

"No, they don't."

Suddenly, Spike was out of the bed and moving towards her. Buffy froze, her eyes wide as he backed her against the  wall. "So why did you come in here again, pet?" he asked, smiling in amusement as her face colored at the last word.

"I...I told you. I...I wanted to see if you were awake."

"Oh, I'm very awake." Spike pressed against her, letting Buffy know in no uncertain terms exactly what part of him was  'awake.'

"Spike...I...we..."

"We what, Buffy?" Spike leaned in closer, pinning her body to the wall with his. "We 'can't?' I think we can."

"But...but we don't even like each other!" Buffy replied. Nervousness fluttered in her stomach. Never had anyone else  made her feel this off her guard.

"S'not about like, Slayer. It's about want."

"I don't want you."

"Yes you do."

Spike crashed his mouth against Buffy's, kissing her with bruising force. Buffy only resisted for a second before  melting in to him, offering no resistance as he hoisted her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his hips.

"Cor, Slayer," Spike muttered, when she pulled away to breathe. Buffy's face was flushed, her eyes dark and  unfocused. "Want you so bad, kitten." Buffy moaned, rubbing up against him, and Spike took that as acceptance. He  carried her away from the wall and to the bed, stretching out on top of her.

Buffy whimpered as Spike kissed her neck, his hand under her sweater, running along her abdomen. His fingers trailed  upwards, cupping her breast through her bra. As his other hand moved to the waistband of her jeans, Buffy suddenly  realized what she was doing. She pushed up, knocking Spike off of her and on to the floor.

Spike sat up. "Buffy..."

"This is wrong, Spike."

"Felt pretty right to me."

"What do you know about right? You're just a...a thing."

Spike stood up, glaring down at Buffy who sat on the edge of the bed. "You walk a fine line, little girl."

"What are you going to do? You try to act like you're the 'Big Bad,' but look at you. Reduced to depending on the Slayer  to bring you pig's blood. You're a pathetic excuse for a vampire."

Spike's eyes held a glint of yellow for a moment. "So this how you get your kicks, Slayer? Getting the vamps all worked  up and then pulling this ice bitch routine? Too bad you didn't decide not to take it any further with ol' Angelus, innit?  Maybe then there'd be a few less dead bodies in the world."

Buffy gaped at him for just a moment before taking a swing, her fist connecting with flesh and bone as it knocked Spike  back down to the ground. "You stay the hell away from me," she said, her tone menacing, before leaving him alone  again.

Buffy sat in front of the fire, watching as the wood slowly burned. Spike hadn't left the bedroom since their  confrontation, not even for blood.

She tried not to let his comment about Angel bother her, since she knew Spike had purposely said the thing that would  hurt her most, but she couldn't help it. Spike was right. If she'd never caused Angel to lose his soul, less people would  be dead. Jenny Calendar for one.

But even if it was the truth, what right did Spike have to say it? As if he could wag a moral finger at her. Where did he  get off saying things like that to her?

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you called him a pathetic thing..."

Buffy frowned. Sometimes, she really hated her inner voice. Especially when it sounded that much like her mother. If  she was honest with herself, she could admit that she'd reacted to Spike the way she did out of fear more than anything  else. He was getting too close, almost getting her to let down her boundaries the way she had with Angel and Parker.  And then what would happen?

He'd leave. She wouldn't even have to turn him evil. He already was.

Buffy glanced from the fire to the pile of wood that was still perched on the hearth. With that one simple act of getting it  for her, Spike had thrown her whole perception of him off. Evil vampires did not chop wood for the Slayer in the  middle of the night.

Her mind went over the events of the past few days.

Evil vampires didn't sit around watching Christmas movies with said Slayer.

Evil vampires didn't help the Slayer fight demons.

Evil vampires didn't save her life.

So what was Spike? He didn't have a soul, and she knew he'd balk at being called anything but "evil." And as far as  "good" went, well, that didn't exactly seem to apply to Spike either. So where did that leave him?

Somewhere in between...

Buffy frowned. She didn't like to think about a gray area when it came to her being the Slayer. Demons were evil. She  was good. Good triumphs over evil. End of story. But the longer she was around, the harder it was to make everything  fit into that neat little worldview. First there was Angel. He was a demon, but he wasn't evil. Most of the time, anyway.  But he had a soul, so she had always been able to write him off as a single anomaly.

Then came Anya. Sure, she wasn't a demon anymore, but she had been for a long time. She'd brought horrible, bloody  vengeance down on men for centuries. Now, she was Xander's human girlfriend. Buffy was pretty certain she had a  soul now, although she wasn't sure whether she had or not in her demon days. And even if she didn't, she certainly  didn't seem to have the guilt issues that Angel had. In all honestly, she didn't even seem apologetic for the people she'd  maimed or killed. But was she evil?

Buffy frowned as she thought about that question, and found she was unable to classify Anya as truly "evil." A bit  annoying, yes, but not evil. And she seemed to genuinely care for Xander.

But what did any of this have to say about Spike? He was a soulless vampire—like Angelus—but he certainly didn't act  like his grandsire. Buffy knew there was no sense in kidding herself into thinking that the soulless version of her former  lover would have made any effort to save her life that night. He probably would've taken the demon out for a  celebratory drink...

Again, that brought her back to what was Spike? As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew he was capable of  love. She'd seen it with Drusilla. She wanted to write it off as a sick obsession, but she'd seen the way Spike looked at  the dark-haired vampiress. If that wasn't love, Buffy didn't know what was.

Everything was just so damned confusing. She wanted everything to fit into clearly-labeled boxes, to be the way Giles  had told her it would be when she asked him to "lie to her" after she'd staked Ford. But it wasn't. And Spike was making  sure she knew it.

And to make things worse, she was feeling guilty—for both how she'd let things get out of hand with him, and what  she's said to him afterwards. She wanted to pretend that Spike didn't have feelings, but she knew he did. He'd made an  attempt to make amends with her after their argument the night before, and she'd paid him back by treating him as  lower than the dirt beneath her boots. If he was supposed to be the evil one, what did that make her?

Buffy stared back into the fire, wishing that being the Slayer could mean having all the answers.

Spike sat on the bed—now clothed—staring at the wall. Bloody Slayer. Letting him think he could have her and then  kicking him back down again. He hated her. Hated the way she looked at him. He hated her smile, her hair, her eyes.  Hated her voice, her skin, her taste.

He hated the way she made him feel.

He wanted her to make him feel it again.

Spike stood, roaring in frustration as he threw a lamp at the wall. Things had been so much easier in the past. He was a  vampire. She was the Slayer. He killed Slayers. But this one, with her tiny skirts and shiny hair had never let him win.  Never given him a chance to fulfill the death wish he'd been sure all Slayers had.

Spike whipped around when he heard a knock at the door. What could she possibly want? Hadn't she done enough for  one day? When she knocked again, he yelled, "Sod off!"

Despite his order that she leave him alone, the door opened slightly, a mug peeking in through the crack. "Thought you  might be hungry."

"Is that holy water?"

"It's blood. I...I tried to get it to the right temperature, but this microwave they have in here is on its last leg."

Spike stared at the mug, wondering if he'd fallen back asleep and this was some really bizarre dream. "Buffy?"

Buffy poked her head in then. "What?"

"I thought you were, um, mad. You know, the whole 'You stay the hell away from me' thing."

"Yeah. I just..." Buffy looked down. "Spike, what's going on here?"

"I don't know."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too. But sometimes..."

Buffy looked up and said softly. "You don't hate me so much?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too. Er, not that I don't hate me so much. I mean, I don't hate me either. But..." She thrust the mug at him. "Just  take your blood."

Spike chuckled, taking the proffered drink. It was hard for him to stay really angry with her when she was like this. He  took a sip, noticing it really was right about at the perfect temperature. How in the world had Angel put up with this girl  and her crazy mood swings?

Then he looked at her and knew exactly how.

"When you're done, um, eating, do you want to go patrol with me? I doubt we'll run into anymore of those Green  Breath thingies since Giles says they move in groups of three, but maybe they'll be something else around to kill."

Spike gave her a smile that made her feel all tingly. "Sure, Slayer. I'd love to go find something to kill with you."

Buffy smiled back. "Great. I'll just, um, wait for you out in the living room."

"All right, pet."

Spike watched as Buffy left the room, musing on the events of the day. Seemed like somehow he'd gotten back in the  Slayer's good graces without doing anything at all.

He quickly finished his blood, deciding he'd take advantage of this for as long as it would last.

"So what did you do for Christmas when you were a kid?"

Spike blinked, looking down at Buffy as the walked together in the snow. "What?"

"I asked what you did for Christmas when you were a kid," she repeated, rolling her eyes.

"Why did you ask that?"

"Uh, cause I wanted to know. Duh."

"Um, well... My father died when I was little—too young to remember him really—so we'd usually go over to my  mother's brother's house. Spend it there. Big family get together sort of thing."

"We?"

"Me and my mum."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"No."

Buffy stopped, regarding Spike for a moment. His mother had been a single parent, raising just him on her own. It was  weird, suddenly realizing she had something like that in common with Spike. "Were you close to her?"

"Mum? Yeah. I...I loved her very much."

Buffy saw pain flicker in his eyes and decided to try to steer the conversation back towards better memories than  whatever the one he seemed to be thinking about right then was. "So what would you do at your uncle's?"

"Well, we'd go to church first, then we'd go to his house, and I'd spend most of the day before dinner avoiding my  cousins like the plague they were. There was usually singing, and a tree, and after dinner we'd exchange gifts and pull  the crackers."

"Pull the what? Crackers? As in little flour squares covered in salt?"

"No, you bloody little American. Crackers as in little wrapped up bits of sweets and toys that pop when you break  them."

Buffy frowned, trying to picture what he was describing. "Like tiny piñatas?"

"Sort of. Less beating and blindfolding, though. You just pull them apart, and they break, spilling whatever's in them."

"Oh."

"Did you have Santa Claus?"

"Yes."

Buffy smiled, picturing Spike as a child, eager, his blue eyes twinkling as he woke on Christmas morning to see what  Santa had brought. Without thinking, she reached up to push back a bit of his hair that has falling on his forehead. She  liked his hair better the way he'd been wearing it for the past few days, without the gel slicking it back.

Spike sucked in a breath at the feel of her hand on him. Even through the gloves she was wearing, he could feel the heat  radiating from her skin. "Buffy..." he said softly, his eyes sliding closed.

Buffy pulled back, her hand trembling. How did things keep becoming a "moment" with him? "I...I don't think we're  going to find anything tonight," she said, stepping away. "Let's go back inside. I'm cold, and we've only watched A  Charlie Brown Christmas three times."

Spike shook off the disappointment he felt from her pulling away from him again. "Yeah. Doesn't seem like we're going  to be getting any action out here anyway."

Buffy frowned, wondering if he meant the double meaning in those words. He didn't give her a chance to call him on it,  as he turned and walked back towards the cabin. Buffy followed him, and suddenly an idea crept into her head that she  couldn't force herself to ignore.

Spike could tell when the Slayer stopped, and wondered what she was doing back there. He turned around, only to have  a snowball smack him in the chest seconds later. "Oi!" he cried in outrage. "What did you go and do that for, Slayer?"

Buffy giggled. "Couldn't help it."

"You know I'm going to have to get you for that, don't you?"

"Like to see you try, fang face."

"Oh you are so asking for it, missy."

Buffy's only response was to stick her tongue out and take off into the woods.

Spike stalked through the trees, knowing the Slayer was near. Her scent was strong, and that was one he'd know  anywhere.

He stopped, closing his eyes and trying to get a better sense of where it was coming from when something cold and  wet dropped on his head. He looked up to see the Slayer in a tree above him, a second snowball coming at him before  he could react. "That's cheating!" he declared, shaking the snow out of his hair.

"Yeah, but it's funny, too."

"Oh yeah, I'll show you funny," Spike replied, making his own snowball and launching it up at the Slayer.

"Hey!" Buffy replied as it hit its mark. "That's cold!"

"Well, duh, luv," Spike replied, giving her a crooked grin.

Buffy hopped down from the tree, landing right in front of him. "It's not nearly as funny when you do it," she said with  a pout that Spike found absolutely adorable.

"I think it's even funnier," Spike said, closing the distance between them.

"You would," Buffy grumbled, taking a step towards him as well.

"I'm about to kiss you, you know."

"I know. I'm about to kiss you, too."

Buffy felt the fire she'd come to associate with Spike's kisses flow through her again as she pulled him closer, digging  her fingers into the leather of his duster. Spike reached down, placing his hand on the small of her back and bringing her  closer. Buffy melted into the kiss, into his embrace, letting herself go. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her she  shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't want to listen. This felt too good, and she didn't want it to stop.

Spike moved his lips from her mouth to her jaw, kissing a path up to her ear. "I want to take you inside, Buffy—and  then I want you to take me inside."

Buffy whimpered, his silky voice making her knees weak. "Spike...oh, god...yes."

Spike hoped beyond anything that she didn't push him away this time. He lifted her up, cradling her against his chest as  he carried her back to the cabin. Buffy's lips and hands were busy the entire time as she kissed, licked, and nipped at his  neck, all the while stroking his back and hair.

He brought her into the smaller bedroom where he'd been sleeping, depositing her on the bed before shrugging off his  duster and taking off his boots. Buffy propped herself up on her elbows, waiting for him to join her. Spike started to get  on the bed before stopping, meeting her gaze with his. "You sure about this, Buffy? I don't want you staking me  afterwards."

Buffy smiled coquettishly. "The only one who's going to be doing any 'staking' tonight, Spike, is you."

Spike couldn't suppress the shiver that coursed through him at her words. He climbed up the bed to her then, kissing  her with a mixture of practiced skill and desperation. Buffy moaned into his mouth. She'd never been kissed quite like  this before, and it made her head spin. "I want you," she said, breaking away from the kiss. "Why do I want you?"

Spike propped himself up a little, looking down at her with a grin. "Because I'm a damn sexy bloke."

Buffy giggled, reaching up to stroke his face. "That you are." She winked. "Let's get you naked again. I only got to look  this morning—never got a chance to touch."

"Well, I certainly don't want to deny you that, if it's what you really want, Slayer," Spike replied, giving her a wink.

Buffy kissed him again, quickly. "Stick with 'Buffy' tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, all right. Only Buffy, or..."

"Just not Slayer."

"I can do that." Spike sat up, pulling his black t-shirt over his head. Buffy licked her lips, reaching up to run first her  fingertips down the well-defined muscles, then her nails. Spike's eyes closed, his jaw clenched, and Buffy felt a rush of  womanly pride at the thought that she'd barely done anything at all, and he was already struggling with control.

"Off with the pants," she said, smirking at the way his eyes popped open as she said it. "Come on, Mr. 'sexy bloke.'  Let's see a little more skin."

Spike stood at the edge of the bed, slowly undoing his belt, unbuttoning his fly, and sliding the denim down his legs, his  eyes never leaving Buffy's. She gasped, her eyes widening as they looked down. Had it been that big earlier?

"See what you do to me, kitten? See how much you make me want you?"

Buffy nodded, sitting up on her knees in front of him. She gave him a quick peck on the lips before trailing her kisses  down his chest, swirling her tongue around each of his nipples before licking a path further down. Spike froze, his mind  racing as her mouth grew closer to the focus of his arousal. Would she...?

He got his answer as she knelt forward, taking the head of his cock into her mouth. He hissed through his teeth,  clenching his fists at his side to keep from grabbing her hair and forcing her to take more of him in. He figured with  Buffy, the quickest way to make this stop would be to try to keep her from moving at her own pace.

Slowly, she took more of him in her mouth, driving him to the edge with her tongue and the slightest scrapes of her  teeth. As he felt himself reaching the edge he tried to push her off, but she wouldn't budge, looking up at him with wide,  green eyes, letting him know she knew exactly what she was doing. When she reached under her chin, taking his balls  in her hand and squeezing just enough to almost hurt, he couldn't hold back anymore. He took her head in his hands,  thrusting into her mouth a few times before erupting with a roar. As pleasure coursed through him, he looked down,  seeing that Buffy's eyes never left his face, her throat working to take him all down.

Spike slumped down to his knees, resting his head against Buffy's legs. After a moment, he looked up at her. "That was  bloody amazing."

"So I was good?"

Spike saw the need for validation in her eyes, and he thought of the two pillocks she'd been with before. How they'd  walked away from this, he didn't know. "You were perfect, Buffy. I couldn't have asked for better." Her bright smile at  his words made his undead heart flutter, and he pushed her back to lie on the pillows. "Your turn, kitten."

Buffy frowned. "My turn? For what?" Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, and Buffy realized "for what." She  blushed—which Spike found particularly amusing seeing as she'd just finished giving him a blow job. "I've never..."

"Good," Spike cut her off. "That lets me be the one who shows you how good it is."

Buffy tried to will her body to relax as Spike undressed her. When he'd finished that, he stared down at her, and Buffy  felt her nervousness creep back up. "What?"

"Do you have any idea how bloody gorgeous you are?" Spike asked, his words tinged with awe. When Buffy blushed  and looked away, he took her cheek in his hand, turning her face so she had to look at him again. "You are, Buffy. Don't  listen to anything those wankers said. "You are a beautiful, desirable woman, and a man would have to be dodgy in the  head to want to walk away from you."

The last of his words managed to penetrate her lust-addled brain. Spike didn't want to walk away after this? What  would that mean for her, for her life? She filed that question away for later, deciding now she'd just concentrate on the  delicious warmth Spike was causing her to feel.

The vampire knelt between her legs, breathing her scent in deeply. He let out a low growl before giving her one long lap  with his tongue. Buffy thrust her hips, crying out at the all too brief contact. "Want more, baby?" Spike asked.

"Yes. Please, Spike...more..."

Spike replied by giving her what she asked for. He took her clit into his mouth, sucking lightly as he flicked it back and  forth with his tongue. When he thrust two fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out as he tasted her, Buffy cried  out, her fingers digging into his scalp. Her enthusiastic response caused Spike to increase his efforts, licking and  thrusting faster, harder, adding a third finger to the mix.

Buffy's body grew completely stiff before she screamed, her hips slamming against Spike's face. When she fell back to  the mattress in a boneless heap, Spike climbed back up her body, nipping at her earlobe. "Enjoy that, pet?"

"Mmm."

"Have I reduced you to monosyllabic responses?"

Buffy chuckled, her hands coming up to rub his shoulders. "That was incredible."

"And it wasn't even the best part," Spike replied, propping himself up over her. "Open up, Buffy. Let me in."

Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting his gaze. Spike could see the nervousness in her eyes, and leaned in to  give her a soft, lingering kiss. "It's gonna be good, pet," he promised her. "Don't you worry." Buffy responded by  reaching between them, guiding him into her heat. He cried out at the first feel of her around him, unprepared for just  how tight and hot she was. "Oh, Buffy," he moaned.

Buffy gasped, Spike stretching her to her limits. As he sank deeper inside her, she trembled, clutching his arms tightly.  "You okay, luv?" he asked.

"Yes," Buffy replied. "It's...oh god...it's good."

"Buffy...Buffy..." Spike chanted, thrusting in and out of her, lost in the sensations of her surrounding him. Beneath him,  she was writhing, thrusting her hips up to meet his, to urge him to give her more.

Neither knew how long they moved like that, in perfect rhythm, the surrounding world melting away until all that  existed was the two of them. Finally, Buffy's eyes grew wide and she cried out, her nails digging into Spike's shoulders  as she clamped tightly around him. The feel of her coming was all it took to send Spike over the edge as he poured his  release into her.

When Spike could think clearly again, he realized he was still on top of her, his head between her breasts, and his  softening cock nestled between her thighs. "Am I crushing you?" he asked.

"No," Buffy replied, playing with his bleached curls.

"Good, 'cause I don't want to move."

"I don't want you to move either."

They lay like that for a while until Spike finally lifted himself off of her. Buffy gave him a confused look, and he leaned  down again, kissing the tip of her nose. "Not going anywhere, pet. Just rearranging us a bit. Lift up?"

Buffy did, and Spike tugged the blankets down, pulling them over the two of them. He then pulled Buffy to him, resting  her head on his chest. Buffy was silent for a while, and Spike thought she was asleep. He was starting to drift off  himself when he heard her speak.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"If...if you're not going to be here in the morning when I wake up, can you just tell me now?"

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know. I just...I always wake up alone."

Spike pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head. "I'll be here, Buffy. I promise."

He felt her eyelids flutter shut against his chest, and Spike pulled her closer.

Spike woke the next morning to find the Slayer staring up at him from her position on his chest. "'Mornin', kitten," he  said, his voice husky from sleep.

"You're here."

"I promised I would be."

"I know, but..."

Spike silenced her with a kiss. "Don't think about them right now, okay, luv? They don't exist here. Just us."

Buffy gave him a small smile. "Just us," she repeated.

"So you want me to show you what it's like to wake up next to a man?" Spike asked, wagging his eyebrows  suggestively.

Buffy giggled. "Yes, please," she said, her naughty grin and the grip she had on him belying her polite answer.

Spike pounced, determined to make her forget about either of her other lovers.

Joyce walked into the darkened cabin, searching for any sign of the two people who were supposed to be occupying it.  "Buffy? Sweetie, are you here?"

Joyce frowned when she didn't get a response. She looked in both the kitchen and the larger bedroom, but was unable  to locate her daughter. Seeing as it was still daylight, she knew at least Spike would have to be there. Slowly, she  opened the door, gasping loudly at the sight she was greeted with.

Buffy turned, her eyes bulging. "Mom!" she cried, struggling to get off Spike and pull the covers over herself. Joyce  said nothing, only turning to leave, shutting the door quickly behind her.

"Oh my god!" Buffy said, burying her face in her hands. "Please tell me my mother didn't just walk in on us."

"Um, your mother didn't just walk in on us?" Spike replied.

Buffy peeked at him through her fingers. "Okay now can you make it true?"

"Wish I could. I think this may be the most embarrassing moment of my existence. And I'm including that time you  dropped a church organ on me."

"You're embarrassed? She's my mom, and she saw me...oh god..."

"Trust me, pet, I'm not thrilled by the idea that Joyce walked in on me shagging her daughter. She'll probably hate me  now."

Buffy looked at him quizzically. "You really do like my mom, don't you?"

"Told you I did."

"I know..." Buffy hid her face in her hands again.

Spike rubbed her back soothingly, and kissed her forehead. "It'll be okay, pet. Let's just get dressed and face this like  adults. She's probably just as embarrassed as we are."

"Yeah, just with less embarrassment and more anger," Buffy replied. She dropped her hands. "I can never look my  mother in the face again. Ever."

"It's not as bad as that, I promise."

"But...she...we...oh god..."

There was a knock at the door, and both Buffy and Spike looked up sharply. "Um, when the two of you are a little  more...presentable, I'd like to have a word with you," Joyce said from the other side.

Buffy whimpered, wishing she could disappear. "Just a minute, Joyce," Spike replied before focusing back on Buffy.  "Come on, sweetheart."

"Kill me. You used to be my mortal enemy, and all. Kill me."

"It's not... Wait...used to be?"

Buffy frowned. "Do you still want to be?"

"No, I just...you don't want me to be?"

"Um, not really. But I don't know what I do want, so don't go inferring anything, okay?"

"Okay," Spike said, poorly masking his disappointment. "Let's just talk to your mum now."

Buffy nodded, getting up to gather her clothes. Spike sighed, getting dressed as well.

Those Summers women really should learn how to knock... lol

Review please and let me know what you think!

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

 Joyce stood outside the door, nervously waiting for when she could go back in. She knew she had to address the  situation at hand, but she was unsure of what to say. She knew Buffy had been with at least Angel in the past, and she  wasn't naïve enough to think that her daughter was going to spend her college years abjuring the company of men, but  Spike? Sure, Joyce liked him despite the fact that he was a vampire, but was he wanted for her daughter? She'd  objected to Buffy's relationship with Angel for many reasons, the least of which not being that he was a vampire.  Besides, when she'd left only a couple of days earlier, Buffy and Spike had been at each other's throats, and now they  were...well, something else. Could such a relationship be good for Buffy?

The door opened and Spike walked out, running his hand through his ruffled hair. He shifted nervously, and Joyce was  glad he looked embarrassed at least. She wouldn't have appreciated smugness from him. "You wanted to talk to us?" he  asked, not looking at her in the face.

"Yes, I do. Is Buffy, um, dressed?"

"Yeah, she is." Spike left out the fact that the reason it had taken as long as it did to open the door was that a few, um,  articles of Buffy's clothing had ended up missing.

Joyce nodded and followed Spike back into the room. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed, only giving her mother a  quick glance before starting down at the floor again, her face bright red. "Well, I guess it would be an understatement to  say I'm surprised," Joyce began. "When I left, you two wanted to kill each other. How did this happen?"

Buffy and Spike shared a quick glance. How had this happened? "I don't know," Buffy said softly.

"We haven't really had that conversation yet," Spike said. He understood Joyce's concern, but he wished she wasn't  doing this now. Whatever it was he had with Buffy, it was still fragile. If Joyce made her overanalyze it now, Spike  could lose Buffy before he had a chance to make things stronger between them.

"Don't you think maybe you should have before you just jumped into bed?" Joyce asked. "This was very irresponsible of  both of you."

Spike's jaw ticked. He didn't want to start anything with her, but she was overstepping her boundaries. Yes, Buffy was  her daughter, but he was an adult. Much more so than Joyce in fact. She certainly didn't need to be talking to him as if  he were a child. He started to speak, when Buffy's head shot up.

"Mom, I have two words for you—police car."

Joyce's eyes widened. "Buffy...that was the candy, and..."

"No! God, Mom, I'm sorry you walked in on that, but Spike and I are both old enough to make our own decisions about  this, okay? Yeah, it might have been a little rash, but it's not like it was unsafe or something. We were two consenting  adults."

"But this is crazy, Buffy! I know I told you to be a little nicer to him, but this isn't quite what I meant."

"I know. Look, we really can't answer any of your questions right now. I know you're confused, but so am I, and I bet  Spike is, too. So let's just drop it."

"Drop it? Buffy, I can't just drop it! I came home to find my daughter having sex with another vampire." At the hurt  look on Spike's face, Joyce added, "Yes, I do like you better than Angel, Spike, but that doesn't change what I want for  my daughter. I want her to be able to live a normal life, not..."

Buffy stood up, causing Joyce to stop abruptly. "What about what I want?"

Joyce blinked. "Is...is being with Spike what you want?"

Buffy crossed her hands over her chest defiantly. "It could be," she said, her chin slightly raised.

Spike looked back and forth between the two women, and let a small grin form on his lips. He knew Buffy was just  claiming to want him because her mother had said otherwise, but he still liked hearing it.

"Buffy, you can't honestly think this is a good idea!"

"Well, I do!" Buffy replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm sure Spike is hungry. I'm going to get him some blood."

Spike blinked. Wait, she was leaving him alone with her mother? That wasn't good. "Uh, pet, you don't..." Buffy was  already gone. "Bollocks," Spike muttered under his breath.

Joyce looked over at Spike. "You know this isn't good for Buffy."

"That's her call, Joyce," Spike replied. "Not mine."

"If you really do care about her, you should want what's best for her."

"Again, not my call. Look, I know what you're trying to do, and I can appreciate it, but as you said earlier, I'm not  Angel. I'm not going to run off because I can't even give Buffy a normal life. Buffy's never going to have a normal life.  She can't. She's the Slayer, Joyce. I know that's something you don't fully understand, but I do. I've come up against  more than one Slayer in my life, and I understand them. I know what makes 'em tick. Buffy will never be happy with  normal. Even if she thinks she wants it, it won't be enough for her. She needs someone who can be her equal. I'm not  saying that I'm necessarily what's best for her either, but that's for Buffy to decide—and if she decides I'm what she  wants, I'm not going to tell her no. You think Angel's leaving really did her any good? Do you have any idea how  emotionally scarred your daughter is? God, this morning she was amazed that I was just here. Not that I still wanted  her, or that I didn't treat her badly the morning after, but that I simply had the decency not to make her wake up alone.  Do you really think that it would be good for her to have another man just walk out of her life?"

Surprise had come to Joyce's face as Spike spoke, and for a moment, she had nothing to say. Finally, she replied. "I...I  had no idea. About Buffy...I just thought." She sighed. "I want her to be happy."

"So do I. And I am sorry you saw what you saw. I know that's something you could've gone your whole life without  seeing."

Joyce chuckled. "Yes, it was. I'll...knock next time."

"Probably for the best."

"I don't approve."

"I know."

Buffy came back into the bedroom then, carrying a mug for Spike. Joyce walked towards the door. "I'll...I'll let you  two talk. But I want your clothes on. Understood?"

"Yes, mother," Buffy replied.

"Clothes on," Joyce said one more time before shutting the door.

Buffy handed Spike the mug, then sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, not looking up at him. Spike set the mug on  the bedside table, then sat behind her, rubbing her shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?"

Buffy leaned into his hands. "If you keep doing that, quite possibly," she replied. "You've got great hands."

"I thought I had already more than proved that."

Buffy smiled slightly. "Behave yourself. My mother meant that 'clothes on' thing."

"You poor little naïve girl," Spike said, kissing her neck. "There are so many things we can do without removing a single  stitch of clothing."

Buffy shivered at that, but restrained from taking him up on the offer. "We...we need to talk."

Spike's hands dropped to his sides. This was it. Buffy was going to give him a nice little "this is wrong" speech, and that  would be that. He thought for a second that maybe he should beg, but decided against it. Maybe he could at least get  through this with a bit of his pride intact.

Buffy turned around so that she was facing him. "I know that this shouldn't have happened. I mean, Slayer and  vampire—kinda wrong here. And before you say anything, I realize Angel was a vampire, too. But this—this can never  be what I had with Angel."

Spike looked up sharply at that, and Buffy saw the pain in his eyes. "Buffy..."

"Let me finish, okay? What Angel and I had was special. He was my first love. But I'm not sure if that's really what I  want now. I mean, I thought Angel was all I'd ever want, and that if ever left I'd just die, but...but he left, and I'm still  alive. And despite the extreme wrongness that is this, I felt something with you last night, Spike. Something that I  haven't felt since Angel, and that I still didn't get a lot with him. Something I've been desperately searching for with  Riley, but unable to find. And this is all really scaring me, because two days ago I was so sure I hated you, and then you  had to go throw everything off with your life saving and wood chopping, and...why are you so quiet? You're never  quiet. That's scary, too."

Spike smiled at her, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her face up. "Didn't want to interrupt you, pet. Kinda liked  what you were saying."

"So how do you feel about all this?"

"You make me feel alive, Buffy. And seeing as my heart stopped beating over a century ago, that's quite an  accomplishment. And yeah, I get that this should be wrong, but bloody hell woman, I want you."

"But what's going to happen if we do this, Spike? You saw how my mom acted. And my friends—Giles—they're all  going to freak."

"Sod 'em. The only people who matter in a relationship, Buffy, are the ones in it."

"Is that what this is? A relationship?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"I don't know. That's the problem."

Spike took her hand, stroking it with his thumb. "How do you feel about me, Buffy?"

"I...I used to hate you. But then, well, these past couple days, I...I think I started liking you. That's insane, isn't it? You  can't go from hate to like in two days, can you?"

Spike tucked her hair behind her ear. "I did. Granted, I've wanted you since the beginning, but I didn't like you." He  winked.

"I just know this is going to blow up in my face," Buffy said. "I mean, I have this horrible dating track record as it is,  and if I get involved with my former mortal enemy, isn't that just begging for trouble?"

"Maybe not. Maybe it's exactly what that track record of yours needs."

Buffy frowned. "How do you figure?"

"Well, dating people you didn't want to kill—at first, anyway—hasn't worked out for you. So they way I see it, maybe  you need to switch tactics."

Buffy smirked. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"I don't know. I think a Slayer managing to get two vampires to fall in love with her is pretty crazy in itself." Spike  didn't realize what he'd said until Buffy turned completely pale and pulled away from him.

"What did you just say?"

"Um...nothing. Just a, um, figure of speech."

"No, that is not a figure of speech. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse—that's a figure of speech. What you just said,  that's..." Buffy stood. "I can't. This is too much."

"Buffy, wait! I'm sorry. It just slipped out, okay? Can't we just forget I said it?"

"No! I can't just forget something like that." She stepped back. "I can't believe I was even considering... This is not  going to happen, Spike."

Spike completely forgot his earlier decision not to beg. Things had been going so well, and now she was changing her  mind? He cursed himself and his uncanny ability to always say exactly the wrong thing. "Buffy, please. Just give this a  chance. It...it could work."

"No, it couldn't. I'm sorry, Spike, but I just can't go through this again."

"Again? Dammit, Buffy, we already established I'm not Angel! I can give you what you need. Really, I can."

"No. You can't. Look, Spike, last night was good, but it was just one night. It's not going to happen again. I don't want  it to"

Spike looked at her, pain in eyes. "Buffy..."

"No." Buffy left him then, and Spike lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Well, mate, that could've gone a lot better," he muttered to himself.

Joyce found Buffy a little while later, sitting on the back porch, staring out into space. "Did you have a talk with Spike?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"I decided it's better if we don't take things any further," Buffy replied tersely.

"I think that's for the best. I mean, as far as vampires go, Spike seems okay, but he's really not what I want for you."

"I know, Mom. He's not what I want for me either." Buffy felt her heart clench at her own words. She could still feel  the ghost of Spike's touch on her skin, and it was so hard to resist the urge to run back in the cabin and crawl into his  arms.

Joyce kissed the top of her daughter's head. "I know this is difficult, Buffy, but it's for the best."

"I know. I'll be in in a little bit, okay?"

Joyce took the hint that Buffy wanted some time alone. "Okay, honey. I'll be inside if you want to talk."

"Thanks, Mom."

Joyce walked back into the cabin, leaving Buffy alone with the snow and her thoughts.

Spike paced restlessly in his room. This was not how he imagined things ever turning out with the Slayer. He wished  Joyce had just stayed in Sunnydale. Then he could still be in bed with Buffy right now.

Or maybe they should've just left him in Sunnydale. Things would've been much better for him if he hadn't come here,  whether he would've known it or not. Sure, he wouldn't have gotten that one incredible night with the Slayer, but he  figured the aftermath of that was going to be more than he wanted to deal with. Especially since he'd let that damn  "love" thing slip.

It wasn't like he'd even meant it. He didn't love the Slayer. That was too ridiculous to even consider. He loved Drusilla.  She was his dark princess, the face of his salvation. He would love her until he was dust.

But then why had he barely thought about Drusilla at all in weeks? Why were all his thoughts wrapped up in the Slayer?  She was all he thought about, dreamt about. And as much as he wanted it to be about killing her, it wasn't. He wanted to  touch her, kiss her, feel her beneath him.

It was then that Spike had a revelation.

He was in love with her. He was in love with the bloody Slayer.

In all his years of being love's bitch, this had to be the clincher.

Spike sat back down on the bed, staring at the wall. Why did these things happen to him? Why did he always fall for  women who would never care for him as much as he did them? He felt suddenly as pathetic as he did his last night as  William, tearing up his poetry, tears stinging in his eyes as he played back Cecily's harsh words over and over again in  his mind. He was there again, wearing his pathetic heart on his sleeve, all but begging for it to be crushed under the boot  heel of a woman who would never see him as anything but beneath her.

He grumbled to himself, lying back on the bed. At least he had one thought that could marginally cheer him up.

Now that he'd gone and used the word "love" to Buffy, maybe she'd finally get around to staking him.

Somehow, Buffy had forgotten how horribly uncomfortable this couch was. It was fine during the day, a perfectly  comfortable place to curl up on for a Christmas movie overload, but as soon as she tried to sleep on it, it grew painful,  hard bumps she swore hadn't been there earlier.

She sat up, pounding the cushions. "Damn demon couch," she muttered. "Why'd we have to get a cabin with only two  beds?"

She looked back over at Spike's bedroom. He hadn't left it after their conversation, not even for blood. She kept seeing  his face as he begged her to give them a chance. Never before in her life had she felt guilty for hurting Spike. But  before, it had always been physical. Where was the bad in a vampire Slayer hitting a vampire?

This time, she'd hurt him emotionally. Despite their past, she didn't really have the right to hurt him like that. The way  he'd looked at her when she'd told him that it wasn't going to work, it was just like...

Buffy suddenly felt sick to her stomach. That look on his face was just like the one she'd had when Parker had told her  their night together had just been "fun." Even if she hadn't meant to let things get to that point with Spike, the result had  still been the same. She knew what he was feeling now, and it made Buffy ill to think she'd done that to anyone, even  Spike.

She got up then, walking to the bedroom and slowly peeking in. "Spike?" she whispered. "You awake?"

"What do you want?" he snapped, still lying on the bed, not turning to look at her.

"I...I wanted to apologize," Buffy said, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her. "The way I treated you  today was wrong."

Spike turned his head, giving her a puzzled look. "Have I gone completely daft, or did the high and mighty Buffy the  Vampire Slayer actually just apologize to me."

"Yes, I did. And you don't have to be an ass about it." Buffy played with one of the buttons on her pajamas. "I...I didn't  mean to use you, and I know that's probably what it looks like. Things just moved really quickly last night, and I...I  couldn't control myself."

"I do have that effect on women."

Buffy smirked. "You're impossible."

"And adorable."

"Spike..."

"And do you know what else is adorable? Those pajamas."

Buffy looked at her outfit, blushing. "I'm trying to be nice, and you're teasing me."

"Nope, no teasing. I happen to find little smiling reindeer with candy cane antlers the height of fashion."

"I hate you," Buffy said, the small smile threatening to break through her pout letting Spike know she meant anything  but.

Spike held out his arms. "C'mere, pouty."

Buffy didn't think. She just moved, back into Spike's arms. It unnerved her how safe she felt there, but it didn't make it  any less true. He wrapped his arms and the blankets around them, kissing her on the top of her head. "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Did you mean it today when you said you'd fallen in love with me?"

Spike paused before finally answering. "Yes."

"Oh." Buffy was quiet for a moment. "I...I don't know if I can love you."

"I know. I don't expect you to. It's not the way it works with me anyway."

Buffy looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Women don't love me back, Buffy. I Guess I'm just...unlovable."

"Drusilla loved you."

"Maybe. In her own crazy way. But not the way I loved her. Never the way I loved her."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't get loved back either."

"Angel..."

"No." Buffy moved closer to Spike, tightening the grip she had on him. "I think he loved me, just not, well like you said  with Dru—not the way I loved him. I never could've walked away from him, and he walked away from me so easily.  Just off into the night without even a real good bye."

"Angel's an idiot. Always has been."

"He thought he was doing what was best for me, but isn't that for me to decide?"

"Seems like it to me. 'S what I told your mum earlier, when she tried to compare me to Angelus."

"You do realize that if we were together, you couldn't kill again, don't you? Even if you somehow got rid of that chip,  you couldn't..."

"I know, Buffy. I've thought about that. But there's one thing in this world that's always meant more to me than all the  bloodshed and violence I could find, and that's love. I'd do anything for the woman I love, pet. Even if it meant turning  my back on everything I am."

"I'm still scared, Spike."

"I know, kitten. Me, too."

"Do you think maybe you could...just hold me tonight?"

Spike kissed her softly. "I'd be honored."

Buffy smiled, cuddling against Spike's chest as she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

"Buffy...Buffy, wake up."

Buffy blinked groggily. "Spike?"

"Yeah. There's someone knocking at the front door."

Buffy glanced at the clock, frowning. "At this hour? That could be bad."

"I know. Come on, let's go check it out."

Buffy nodded, walking out of the bedroom with Spike. Her mother was in the living room, a worried look on her face.

"Buffy, do you have any idea who could be here at this time of night?" Joyce asked. "And were you back in Spike's  room?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We were just sleeping. And no, I don't know who it is. Spike, get my back in case it's something  demony."

"You got it, Slayer."

Buffy opened the door slowly, ready to fight if need be. She gaped when she saw who was standing outside. "Giles?"

"Buffy, I have to speak with you immediately. It's urgent," Giles said, shivering.

Buffy sighed heavily, letting Giles inside. "Let me guess, someone's giving me an apocalypse for Christmas?"

"Quite possibly."

"Just what I always wanted." Buffy turned to Joyce. "Mom, you might as well start a pot of coffee. Something tells me  this is going to be a long night."

What's this, you say? A plot? Yeah, I didn't see it coming either. Oh well, we'll see where it goes. *wink*  Review  please!

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

  "Thank you, Joyce," Giles said as the woman handed him a mug of coffee. "I did need a bit of warming up after being out there."

 Buffy leaned in the doorway, Spike as close to her as he could be without being too obvious. "Okay, Giles, what's the deal? Are we all going to die, or what?"

 "Well, I don't know for certain, but I did some more research on grenbrek demons after you faced them, and..."

 "Wait—did you just say grenbrek demons?" Spike asked. "Bloody hell, Slayer, why didn't you tell me that's what they were?"

 "I did!"

 "No, you said 'Green Breath' demons."

 "Same thing."

 "No it isn't! Dammit, Watcher, do you teach the girl anything?"

 "Hey!" Buffy exclaimed. "Besides, Giles acted like they were no big deal. But now he's here in the middle of the night, and you're freaking out, so I'm guessing it is sort of a big deal..."

 "Grenbrek demons are commonly used as assassins, and..."

 Spike snorted. "You needed a book to tell you that?"

 "You didn't know what they were either," Buffy pointed out.

 "Grenbreks are shapeshifters," Spike replied. "They change their outward appearance to fit their environment. Never fought any in the snow before, so I'd never seen them with fur coats. Besides, I was a bit busy helping you kill the bloody things, Slayer."

 Giles shot a glance at Spike. "Wait, did you just say you helped Buffy fight them? What about the chip?"

 "Yeah, I did. Turns out the chip lets me hurt demons." Spike turned back to Buffy. "You didn't tell him?"

 "No..."

 Spike shook his head in disgust. "So what, Slayer, it wasn't important? I don't matter at all? Is that it?"

 "That's not it! You do matter, Spike!"

 "Excuse me," Giles asked, "But when exactly did Spike matter?"

 Buffy glanced between Giles and Spike. She knew she had two options. One, she could deny anything had happened at all with Spike. Two, she could fess up and face the Giles meltdown. She looked into Spike's eyes, seeing the hope he had there. Well, she'd already faced her mom—how bad could this be? "Spike matters because, well, he's sorta my maybe boyfriend?" Buffy winced at her own words. Way to sound fickle...

 "He's your what!" Giles stood, tearing off his glasses and cleaning them as he began to pace the room. "Buffy, are you completely insane? I thought you would've learned your lesson after that debacle with Angel."

 "I did!" Buffy yelled. "I learned not to date Angel!" Her eyes grew wide. Had she really just said that?

 "This is...it's just insanity! I won't stand for it."

 "It's not your choice!" Buffy replied.

 "He's a killer, Buffy! How can you call yourself the Slayer and align yourself with a monster?"

 "Oi!" Spike exclaimed. "I've been helping her!"

 Joyce cleared her throat loudly, and the three other occupants of the room turned back to him. "You know, I'm not a Slayer or a Watcher, but I was thinking maybe we should concentrate on this thing where Buffy might be in danger. Just a thought."

 Giles looked a little sheepish as he replaced his glasses and went back to the table. "Yes, well, I suppose that should take precedence over this particular development." Giles added under his breath, "Although this may be a sign the end is indeed near."

 "So these grenbrek demons," Buffy shot Spike a look, earning her a smirk from the vampire, "Are more dangerous than you thought. Fill me in on why."

 "Well, it seems that they are primarily underground dwellers, and venture to the surface only when they have been assigned a target to assassinate. Since they were here, there's a very good chance that someone has placed a hit on you."

 "I guess it's too much to hope for that the hit was on someone who just happens to currently be located really close to the Slayer?" Buffy asked.

 "I would suspect not," Giles replied.

 "But if Buffy and Spike killed these things, wouldn't she be out of danger?" Joyce asked.

 "I have no reason to believe so. If someone took the trouble to hunt down and employ grenbrek demons, the odds are not in favor of them simply giving up. It is very likely that whoever it is will send someone else to attack Buffy.  Hiring grenbreks means this adversary is very serious. It is very much like putting out a contract with, oh, say the Order of Taraka." Giles gave Spike a pointed look.

 "The order of what?" Joyce asked.

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Mom. Giles is just finding ways to drive his point home with a very large mallet. Besides, these guys weren't anywhere near as hard to kill as those Taraka guys. Granted, that one almost killed me, but Spike and I together had them dead in minutes."

 "What did you do with the bodies?" Giles asked. "We could possibly study them, learn a bit more."

 Buffy blinked. "Um, bodies? They didn't leave any bodies. They just sort of dissolved. It was icky, but no bodies..."

 Giles took off his glasses again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Then you merely injured them. When grenbreks are injured, they liquefy and return to their underground dwellings. The only way to ensure their demise is to sever the head from the body."

 "Now you tell me?" Buffy asked, exasperated. "You know, when you told me they were grenbreks, you could've told me that, too. Or possibly any of this. I thought you were supposed to be the one with all the answers."

 "I was not aware of any of this when we spoke, Buffy. Contrary to what you may believe, I do not have every detail of every demon species in existence stored in my brain. Grenbreks are rare in this dimension. It's lucky that I was able to discern what they were from your description at all. If it had not been for the fact you stated there were three of them, I may not have."

 "What, is this my fault now? I'm not good enough at describing things I saw in the dark while fighting for my life?"

 "That is not it at all!" Giles exclaimed. "But it isn't as if I purposely withheld information either. It took a great deal of research to uncover what I do know now."

 "Could've just asked me," Spike said. "Watcher hasn't said anything I didn't know. Well, except maybe that 'turning to slime when injured' thing."

 "Would you please shut up?" Giles snapped at Spike.

 "Don't take this out on him!" Buffy yelled back. "He only wants to be helpful."

 "I'm sure," Giles replied. "Helpful to whatever this is trying to kill you, that is."

 "Oi! What part of me not wanting to hurt Buffy now did you not understand?"

 "The part where it makes sense coming from a soulless demon!"

 "Hey!" Joyce yelled, quieting the room again. "This is really getting us nowhere. Now it's going to be morning soon, and if there's one thing I've figured out from having a Slayer for a daughter, it's that demons tend to prefer nighttime for their attacks. I suggest we all get some rest and discuss this in more detail when we're all a bit more clear headed."

 Giles wiped his glasses before replacing them. "Yes, well, I suppose that would be a good plan."

 "Great. I'm going back to bed then," Buffy replied. "Giles can have the couch."

 Giles looked up sharply. "And may I inquire where you will be sleeping?"

 "As if it's any of your business, but with Spike. Good night, Mom." Buffy took Spike's hand and dragged him behind her out of the kitchen.

 Giles glanced at Joyce in shock. "And you're just allowing her to..." He trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete the sentence.

 "I'm not allowing her to do anything, but you know Buffy. She does things her way. I've told them how I feel about this. There's nothing else I can do."

 "But you're her mother. Surely she would listen if..."

 "Do you know Buffy?" Joyce gave him a shy smile. "Besides, when I tried, she started talking about police cars..."

 Giles blushed furiously, again whipping his glasses from his face. "Yes, well, um, I suppose I should get some rest. It was a rather long trip here after all."

 "Good night, Rupert."

 "Good night, Joyce."

 Spike reached his arms out to Buffy as soon as they were back in the privacy of the bedroom. "Come here."

 Buffy wasted no time in moving into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around him. "I don't like it when people send assassins after me."

 Spike winced. "I know. And...and I'm sorry. You know, for when I did it."

 Buffy looked up at him without loosening her grip. "It's all right. Things were...different between us then."

 "If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have hired them if you weren't so damn hard to kill."

 Buffy giggled. "Surprisingly, it is a little."

 "Come on, kitten. Let's get some sleep. We're probably going to need it if this is as bad as Giles seems to think it is."

 "I hope it isn't," Buffy replied. "I sort of wanted a Christmas that didn't include death and destruction."

 "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

 Buffy stiffened in his embrace. "I don't need to be protected, you know. Angel was always doing that, trying to protect me like I was some fragile little girl, and..."

 Spike kissed her quickly. "Not gonna coddle you, luv. I know what you're capable of, and I know you don't need a knight in shining armor. What I meant was, I've got your back. Whatever you're up against this time, I'm right in there with you, making sure you kick the arse of any nasty that gets in your way."

 "You mean that?"

 "Yeah, I do." He winked. "'Fraid I've gotten myself all Slayer-whipped."

 "I think I can work with that. As long as I'm the Slayer holding the whip, that is."

 "Only you, luv. Only you."

 Buffy slipped out of his arms and walked over to the bed, climbing in under the covers. "Care to join me?" she asked.

 Spike grinned. "Best offer I've had in a while."

 Buffy left Spike sleeping the next morning and went into the kitchen. Giles was already awake, and Buffy could tell from the bags under his eyes he hadn't slept much—if at all. "That couch is a real bear, isn't it?" Buffy said.

 "It wasn't the couch that kept me up, Buffy."

 "Jet lag then?"

 "No. It was the knowledge that you—the Slayer—were in the next room sharing a bed with that thing."

 "Well then you lost sleep over nothing," Buffy replied. "Besides, we were just sleeping, Giles." She shrugged. "No point  in someone sleeping on the floor when there's a bed big enough for two."

 Giles slammed the book he had been reading to the table, causing Buffy to jump. "How can you be so bloody flippant about this? Do you honestly believe Spike has any feelings for you aside from seething hatred? He's a demon, Buffy. He can't care about you. He doesn't even have a soul."

 "He loved Drusilla."

 "Please. That mockery of a relationship was not love. He has no concept of what real love is."

 "Look, my relationship, or whatever it is, with Spike is not up for debate right now. Someone wants me dead for reasons still unknown—how about we focus on that?"

 "How can you even be sure Spike doesn't play some part in all of this?" Giles asked. "You told me he heard the demon the first night and sent you out to fight it. Now he claims he knows about grenbreks, but didn't know that's what they were."

 "What, just like you didn't know they were assassins? Geez, Giles—jump to crazy conclusions much? Besides, when could he have formed this big conspiracy against me, huh? Was he tapping out Morse code to his demon buddies on the pipes in your bath tub?"

 "I don't know! All I'm saying is you seem very quick to accept him."

 "Things have been different between us these past couple of days."

 Giles snorted. "Apparently."

 "And here's something I never thought I'd say— Giles, get your mind out of the gutter. It's not just that. Yes, Spike and I have...um, been intimate." Giles' glasses came off at her words, and Buffy thought she might have caught a muttered "oh dear god." "But that isn't the point. The point is he's done other things to lead me to believe that maybe he's not well, as bad as he used to be. He saved my life, Giles. That first attack—he heard me scream, and he saved me."

 "By hurting your attacker," Giles replied. "Buffy, have you given a thought to the possibility that the chip stopped working, and he's merely trying to weaken your defenses?"

 "If that was the chance, then he's had plenty of chances to snap my neck, believe me. And don't give me that look. He could've done it in my sleep. Besides, the chip still works on humans. I saw that with me shortly after the first grenbrek fight."

 Giles eyes widened. "He hurt you and..."

 "Not on purpose. My shoulder got dislocated in the fight, and it hurt when he popped it back in—so stop thinking all those bad thoughts."

 "Could he have been faking the reaction to the chip in order to get your guard down?"

 "Um, no. He didn't even think that would set the chip off."

 "He could be..."

 "No. Why can't you just accept that something's changed here?"

 "Because the last time I trusted you with a vampire someone I loved ended up dead!"

 Buffy blinked, silent for a moment. "This is different, Giles."

 "How? Tell me how this is different!"

 "Because Spike isn't Angel! The way he's been with me these past couple of days—he hasn't been faking it, Giles. And I  know it's crazy, and I'm not saying I want to go pick out china patterns or anything, but there's something there. We  can trust him now."

 "No we can't!"

 "God, why do you people never believe me? No one believed me about Ted or Kathy, and look how those turned out.  Well, I know people, Giles. Call it—Slayer intuition. And as crazy as it sounds, I know we can trust Spike on this. He's  not going to hurt me. Not anymore."

 "And if he gets the chip out? Then what? More broken necks and messages written in blood?"

 "I...I don't know. But that so isn't the point right now. There's something out there much more dangerous than chipped  Spike, and we need to find it and kill it. Any suggestions on that?"

 Giles sighed. "I don't know. I've been going though these books, but grenbreks will sell themselves out to the highest  bidder, with no set pattern of employers. It's impossible to find out this way who sent them after you, or why."

 Buffy frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. Suddenly, her face brightened. "I have an idea."

 "Why does that make me nervous?"

 "No, it's a good one. We need to somehow find out who in the demon world wants to kill me this time, right? Well, we  have our in to the demons sleeping right back there in the bedroom. All we have to do is send Spike in, get him talking  to the right people, and we can find out what the sitch is."

 "Buffy, that's a completely ludicrous idea! There is no way that Spike could—or would—do something like that."

 "What choice do we have? We know nothing about what's going on, Giles. Spike's all we've got."

 "No. I am not letting you..."

 Buffy lifted her chin. "You're right, Giles. You're not letting me do anything. I'm the Slayer, and I'm making a decision.  Deal with it or go home."

 "Buffy..."

 "All you have here is a choice, Giles—with me, yes or not?"

 "This isn't going to work."

 "Maybe not, but it's all we've got."

 "Don't blame me when we all end up dead."

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "How about you have just the tiniest bit of faith in me? I was chosen for this job, and all. I can't  be a complete moron..."

 "I don't..."

 "Save it. I'm going to talk to Spike."

 Giles slumped as Buffy walked out of the kitchen.

 "Wake up, sleeping bleachy." Spike stirred lightly, but didn't wake. Buffy sighed, took a deep breath, and called out in  the most high-pitched voice she could manage, "Blondie bear!"

 Spike sat up, his eyes wide. When he saw it was Buffy, he relaxed, but gave her a scowl. "Bleedin' hell, Slayer. 'S not  nice to scare a bloke like that. Coulda had a heart attack. Well, if that was possible, that is."

 Buffy giggled. "I figured it would wake you up. Besides, the look of total terror on your face—pretty funny."

 "And I thought I was the evil one. So what was so important that you had to scare me awake, hmm?"

 "I have an idea. But seeing as it involves you, I thought I should probably discuss it with you first."

 "Is this a handcuffs and whipped cream kind of an idea, or a crazy plan that can probably get us all killed kind of idea?"

 "Um...more of the second one. Although I'm thinking I like the sound of the first one better."

 Spike waggled his eyebrows. "Me, too. Got either one around here?"

 Buffy lightly smacked his chest. "Behave."

 "Spoil all my fun then. So what's the deal?"

 "Well, Giles says he has no way of figuring out who sent the grenbreks after me. So, I was thinking that if we had  some sort of contact with the demon world then..."

 "You want me to go see if I can rustle up some info for you?"

 "Please?"

 "Will there be some handcuffs and whipped cream in it for me if I do?"

 "Spike!"

 "Teasing, Slayer. Well, partly. But yeah, whatever you need me for, I'm there. I told you that already."

 "I know. And thank you."

 Spike took hold of Buffy's hands, pulling her into his lap. "How about thanking me another way, pet?" he asked,  nuzzling against her neck.

 "Spike, my mom and Giles are right out there. And that door doesn't lock. I checked."

 "We can be real quiet like. They'd never know..."

 Buffy sighed. "It's not that I don't want to—because boy, do I ever—but we can't. Later, I promise."

 "I'm going to hold you to that, Slayer."

 "I know."

 Spike lay back down. "Seeing as I can't do a lot of undercover work in the broad daylight, I'm going to get a bit more  sleep. Care to join me, pet?"

 "Promise to behave?"

 Spike gave her a surprisingly innocent look. "Would I do anything but?"

 "Um, yes?"

 "I'm hurt that you'd think such a thing."

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Uh huh. Right." She lay down, resting her head against his chest. "Get some sleep, Spike."

 Spike chuckled, kissing her forehead before closing his eyes again.

 You know the drill—I produce the fic, you make with the reviews. I've held up my end of the bargain...

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

  Spike walked into the bar, every bit of him exuding confidence. It wouldn't do for him to be nervous, not here where those around him would recognize the stench. He went to the bar, leaning across it and signaling for the bartender.

 The bartender may have sneered, although Spike found it hard to tell with the large tusks protruding from the demon's mouth. "What will it be, halfbreed? Bloody Mary, hold the Mary?"

 "Not looking for a drink, mate. I'm here for information."

 "I don't got any."

 "Not here for trouble either. Rumor has it someone's after the Slayer. That's something I'd be interested in playing a nice little part in."

 The bartended snorted. "What self-respecting demon wouldn't?"

 "Well, my interest in the Slayer is...personal. The bint killed my sire a while back. You may have heard of him—Master of the Aurelius line." The bartender blinked, and Spike had to keep from smiling at his triumph. Despite the demon's obvious contempt for vampires, a name like Aurelius still held weight.

 "Over there, in the booth by the jukebox. Kreltoph demon by the name of Dejira. She's got the information you want."

 "Thanks, mate. You're a good...er, man."

 Spike walked over to the booth, sliding in across from Dejira. Kreltoph were one of the few demons species known for their exquisite beauty—which was why the last time Spike had met with one it had been in a brothel, some years prior. With her delicate, curved figure and long black hair, Dejira was almost human in appearance, though her silver eyes and the lavender patterns on her skin belied her existence as something else entirely. She looked up sharply at Spike, regarding him for only a moment before snarling. "I do not wish for your company, vampire. Despite my race's most common occupation, I am not in the pleasure business."

 "Not in search of that sort of company, princess. Heard you might be able to help me with a little trouble—of the Slayer variety."

 "What makes you think I know anything of the Slayer?"

 "It's what all the kids are saying these days." He stuck his hand across the table, although he expected the look of disgust Dejira favored it with. "Name's Spike."

 Dejira blinked as Spike pulled his hand back. "Spike? William the Bloody?"

 "One in the same."

 The demoness began to laugh. "Whatever makes you think I would want your help in killing the Slayer? From what I heard, you've done nothing but fail at every attempt you've made to kill her."

 "Yeah, well, this one is a little different than the others. And might I remind you that I've killed two Slayers in the past, so I'm hardly incompetent."

 Dejira grinned. "Possibly. But the current rumors are that you have been seeking refuge in the home of this particular slayer's watcher. Tell me, vampire, how is this bringing you any closer to killing the Slayer?"

 Spike leaned across the table. "Let me let you in on a little secret, told to me by an old mate of mine. This Slayer, like I said, isn't like the others. This one, well, you have to love her to kill her."

 "Love her?" Dejira asked, her glittering eyes blinking in surprise. "Are you telling me you've fallen in love with the girl?"

 Spike sat up again. "Hardly," he said with a snort. "But that's what the chit thinks. Should've heard her this morning, defending me to the bloody Watcher. Priceless it was. Thinks she's got me all housebroken. But the truth of the matter is, I've been waiting for the right time until I can make my move. Gettin' her nice and soft. So when I heard that there's a new player in town wanting to bring her down once and for all, thought I might offer my services. I'm sure the intimate knowledge I've gained about the girl could be of some use."

 "If she's so ripe for the plucking, then why not kill her yourself? Why place yourself in the service of someone else?"

 Spike linked his hands behind his head, leaning against them. "You know us vampires—we're a lazy lot. Why bother to come up with my own plan if someone else has already got one?"

 "And the Slayer...would you say she trusts you?"

 "Completely. It's pathetic, really. All I have to do is give her puppy dog eyes, and she's mine."

  "Then you may be of some help." Dejira took a card from the small, woven bag beside her and handed it to Spike. "Be there tomorrow. One hour after sunset. I will see if he is willing to meet you."

 "May I inquire as to who this 'he' is?"

 "No, you may not."

 "Right." Spike stood. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

 "Yes. And I don't think I have to mention to you, vampire, that you are not to tell anyone of our meeting."

 Spike gave her a salute. "Course. I'll be quiet as a lil' bloodsucking mouse."

 "Good. Until tomorrow."

 Spike nodded and walked out of the bar.

 "Well, you did return after all. I expected you to use this as your escape."

 Spike glared at Giles as he shook the snow off of him. "Yeah, I came back, Watcher. And I got information, too."

 Buffy came up behind him, taking his coat as he slipped it off his shoulders and hanging it on the rack by the door. "What did you find out?"

 "Talked to a right bitchy demon named Dejira. She wasn't too forthcoming with the details, but she gave me an address. Wants me to be there tomorrow, hour after sunset."

 "And this woman says someone does want to hurt Buffy?" Joyce asked.

 "Yeah. Some sort of Slayer assassination plot in motion apparently. Hoping I'll find out more tomorrow."

 "How did you get them to trust you?" Giles asked, suspicion obvious in his voice.

 "I told them Buffy's every weakness and that I plan to sell her out for a year's supply of blood and some decent albums." Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm a vampire, Giles. Not too hard for me to convince anyone I want the Slayer dead."

 "I'm certainly well convinced," Giles responded.

 "Listen here, Rupert," Spike said, a flash of yellow in his eyes as he turned on the Watcher. "I've bloody told you I'm not interested in hurting Buffy, and if you don't..." Spike stopped when he felt Buffy's hand on his arm.

 "Spike, let's go work out the details for tomorrow, okay? I don't want you rushing into possible danger without some contingency plans worked out."

 Spike nodded, feeling his anger dissipate as soon as he looked into her eyes. "Yeah. Probably a good idea." He let Buffy take his hand and lead him into the bedroom.

 As soon as the door closed, Giles stood. "Rupert, where are you going?" Joyce asked.

 "I cannot just sit here while Buffy is behind closed doors with a vampire."

 "Neither can I," Joyce replied. "Which is why I was going to the kitchen for some very strong eggnog. Care to join me?"

 "You can stay in the house while they're doing lord knows what in there? Spike is a vampire. They're..."

 Joyce held up her hand. "Trust me, I know. I caught the live show."

 Predictably, Giles removed his glasses. "The what?"

 "I came home, I didn't knock...I'm repressing."

 "Oh dear lord."

 "That about sums it up. The way I see it, that door is better closed. Eggnog?"

 "Yes, please." Giles followed Joyce to the kitchen.

 "You did say very strong, didn't you?"

 "You all right, pet?"

 "Yes. I'm fine. Perfect."

 "Then why are you pacing?"

 Buffy stopped short. "I'm not."

 "You were," Spike said, giving her a grin. He patted the spot on the bed next to where he was sitting. "Come here."

 Buffy did as he said, resting her head on his shoulder and letting Spike wrap his arm around her. "This makes me nervous. And not just the whole someone's trying to kill me thing, cause sooo used to that. But I'm...well, I'm worried about you."

 "Me?"

 "Yeah, you. What if this is a trap? What if something happens to you because of me and..."

 "Shh. Don't you worry about that, Buffy. I haven't been around this long by being reckless." He kissed her then pulled back, holding her face in his hands. "Don't worry about me. You concentrate on keeping yourself safe, you got that?"

 "Spike..."

 "We're both going to walk away from this. I promise you that."

 "Make love to me."

 Spike blinked. "I thought you didn't...with your Mum, and Giles..."

 Buffy smiled coyly. "We can be quiet. I just...I need to feel you."

 Spike kissed her again, harder this time. "Buffy," he said when he pulled away to give her air. "Want you so bloody much. All the time..."

 "I want you too, Spike."

 He turned, pressing her down against the mattress. Buffy gasped as he trailed his mouth down, nipping at her neck with blunt teeth. Spike looked up at her. "Shh, kitten. Don't want the others to hear."

 Buffy nodded, willing to give any response that would get Spike to continue. He pulled her sweater up over her head, then quickly went to her bra, unhooking it in one deft movement. His mouth went to a hardened nipple just as his hand covered mouth, muffling the moans of pleasure he was eliciting from her body.

 Suddenly, Buffy pushed his hand away. "No playing tonight. I just want you inside me."

 The lust-filled tone of her voice set him ablaze. Spike stood, quickly undressing as Buffy undid her jeans, wiggling them down until they got stuck at her boots. Frustrated, she tried to kick them off unsuccessfully. Once fully undressed himself, Spike knelt down, helping her. When he was done, he moved over her, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubbed his cock against her slit until Buffy opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, luv," he told her. "Right here is the only place I ever want to be."

 Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He inched inside her slowly, ignoring her heated pleas that he move faster. Once he was finally fully sheathed, he leaned down, pressing kisses all over her face. "So bloody perfect, Buffy. Can you feel it? Can you feel how perfectly we fit?"

 "Yes! Spike, yes."

 Spike moved steadily within her, his mouth and hands constantly on her skin. Buffy's words of encouragement soon became no more than fevered moans and pants as she clung to Spike, lost in ecstasy. Suddenly, he increased the strength and speed of his thrusts, pushing Buffy closer to the brink. Her eyes widened, her fingernails digging into his skin, and Spike leaned down, capturing her scream of release in his mouth. As her body went limp beneath him, he pushed into her one more time before losing himself inside her.

 Buffy lay under him still, panting. Spike propped himself up on an elbow, using his other hand to wipe the tears from Buffy's face. "You all right, kitten?"

 "Yeah...I just...I never thought it would be like that with you."

 Spike kissed her forehead. "I'm just all full of surprises."

 Buffy chuckled. "That you are." Spike rolled over, pulling Buffy against him. After a moment, she spoke again. "What happens if you walk into a trap tomorrow?"

 "I beat the shit out of whoever had the nerve to try to kill me, and then I come home to you."

 "I want to be around. So I can come in if you need me."

 "No."

 "What?"

 "I said no. It's too dangerous, Slayer. If it is a trap, you don't need to be caught in it, too."

 "You said last night that you wouldn't coddle me."

 "And I'm not. I'd be saying the same thing if you were a three hundred pound ex-con named Butch." Buffy giggled a little at that, and Spike pressed a kiss against her temple before continuing. "Look, if anything you staying behind will make things easier for me. If it is a trap, one person getting out of it is a lot easier than two. Besides, someone will need to stay behind to look after your mum and ol' Rupes."

 Buffy frowned. "Okay, fine. I concede to your logic." She frowned. "Did I actually just say that?"

 "Must be the orgasm talking."

 Buffy smirked. "Must be." She yawned. "Made me sleepy, too."

 "Let's get some rest, then." He pulled the covers up around the two of them.

 Buffy sighed contentedly. "'Night, Spike."

 "'Night, luv. Sweet dreams."

 Buffy smiled, images of Spike already dancing before her closed eyes. "I will."

 "You make a fine nog, Joyce."

 Joyce giggled, taking a sip from the mug. "Why thank you, Rupert." Suddenly, she frowned. "But I can't make anymore. The bottle's empty."

 "Bloody hell." Giles reached up, frowning when he touched his nose. "It seems I've already removed my glasses. Do you know where they are?"

 "Nope." Joyce looked at him. "I like you without them. I can see your eyes." She waved a finger at him. "You are very handsome man, Rupert. All...rugged."

 "And you, Joyce, are a very beautiful lady."

 Joyce blushed. "That's the eggnog talking."

 "No, I've always thought so. First time I saw you. If you weren't Buffy's mother..."

 "But I am."

 "Yes, you are."

 "So we can't."

 "We shouldn't."

 Giles and Joyce both leaned in, the space between them closing. Suddenly, Giles pulled back. Joyce blinked. "What..."

 "There's something out there."

 "What is it?"

 "I don't know. Go get Buffy."

 Joyce nodded, running to the bedroom. She placed her hand on the knob, then stopped, pulling back and knocking. "Buffy? Ru...Mr. Giles heard says there's something outside. I think he wants you to slay it."

 There was a pause, followed by some muffled grumbling. "Just a minute, Mom!" Spike and Buffy emerged from the bedroom shortly thereafter, disheveled and armed. "Grenbreks back?" Buffy asked.

 "I don't know. You better go to the kitchen. I'm gonna go...sit on the couch."

 Spike leaned down, whispering in Buffy's ear. "Your mum's sloshed, pet."

 "Sorta picked up on that," Buffy muttered before heading for the kitchen, Spike in two. "Giles—Mom says we have a problem."

 "Yes. I saw something move past the window. May be our good friends the gra...grem...the demons."

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh god, you're drunk, too." She sighed. "Come on, Spike. Let's go kill us some bad guys."

 "On it, Slayer."

 They stepped out the backdoor, each with a sword raised. Spike sniffed the air, then jerked his head towards the left. Buffy nodded, following him. Sure enough, they found themselves faced with three grenbrek demons, all very much alive.

 Spike shook his head, his face shifting. "Remember, Slayer—heads off."

 "Can do," Buffy replied, charging the first demon and leaving the other two to Spike. She swung, severing her opponent's head from its body. She kicked it away as it rolled towards her then turned, ready to help Spike finish the other two.

 Spike stabbed one of the remaining demons in the stomach, then raised his sword to finish the kill. Before he got the chance to, the third one charged Buffy, knocking her to the ground. "Slayer!" he yelled, abandoning his to pull the other off Buffy. As the demon's weight was lifted from her body, Buffy jumped up, loping off the head of grenbrek as Spike held it still for her. She let out a deep breath, pushing her hair away from her face as Spike threw the decapitated body down. "Where's the last one?"

 Spike turned around. "It was...buggering hell. It must've melted."

 "You should've finished it when you had it."

 "Hey now, Slayer. I was saving your life if you do recall."

 Buffy brushed herself off. "I had him."

 "Let me guess—you were going to let him get a few good killing blows in to throw him off guard before you attacked?"

 Buffy shot him a look. "Very funny."

 "We'll get him next time, pet."

 "I'd rather there wasn't a next time."

 "Yeah, me, too. But when it comes to you fighting another time or you not...well, I'm picking the first one, okay?"

 Buffy sighed. "Well, when you put it that way..." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for saving my life...again."

 "Any time, gorgeous."

 Buffy and Spike went back in the house to find Joyce and Giles in the kitchen. "Did you kill them?" Joyce asked.

 "We saw the whole thing, Joyce," Giles pointed out. "They killed two, and one got away."

 Joyce pouted. "I want to hear it from Buffy."

 "We killed two and one got away," Buffy said in a monotone. "And Mom—you're scaring me. This behavior is way too band candy-esque. Stay away from law enforcement vehicles, you got it?"

 Joyce blushed. "Yes. Well, I'm...I'm going to bed. Good night all." She hurried from the room.

 "I'm off, too," Buffy said. "You coming, Spike?"

 "Yeah."

 "Just a minute, Spike. I'd like to talk you—alone."

 "Giles, I don't..." Spike cut Buffy off, placing his hand on her shoulder.

 "It's fine, pet." He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll be in in a minute."

 Buffy glanced between Spike and Giles. "All right. Don't be too long, all right?"

 "I won't."

 As soon as they were alone, Spike crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the doorframe. "You have something to say, Watcher?"

 "Yes. You...saved Buffy tonight."

 "Saw that did you?"

 "Yes, I did. And what I want to know is—why?"

 "Why shouldn't I? Whether you like it or not, Buffy's something special to me. Couldn't very well let her get killed."

 "Do you love her?"

 "Yes."

 "That's impossible!"

 "Then why'd you even bother to ask? Look, your high an' mighty Watcher's Council, for all its research, doesn't know a bleedin' thing about vampires. Yeah, some of us got nothing behind the monster. But some of us do. And I love Buffy. It's a bit crazy, but it's the truth. And I'd give my own life for hers if it came to it."

 "But that's just the problem—you don't have a life to give. You're nothing but a demon parading around in a human corpse."

 Spike shook his head, chuckling slightly. "That what you Watchers tell the girls? Nice little fairy tale to keep them from thinking they're really killing anything. It's a good one, really."

 "It's the truth. You might have the memories of the man you were before, but you're not him. You're a demon."

 "You're right about one thing there—I'm not the same William I used to be. Being a vampire changes you, yeah. But there's more to a person than a soul. It's about choice. Losing my soul let me make the choice to live free, to find something in me that had always been buried. But being with Buffy has let me make the choice to do something else with myself. To be what the woman I love needs me to be. Maybe you need to choose to see that."

 Spike walked out, leaving Giles with nothing to say.

 It has been asked whether or not I plan to have this finished by Christmas. Ideally, yes. However, I can't promise that either. I spend Christmas with my internet-less grandmother, and I'm leaving for her house the twenty-second. I'm trying to be really good with this one, keeping the updates steady, but there's only so much I can do. So I'm not sure about being done for Christmas yet, although I promise I'm trying my hardest!

 Thanks to everyone who's left a review so far. You guys are too kind!

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

 Buffy tightened her grip around Spike. "I don't want you to go."

 "I know, luv. I don't want to go either. But I have to. And in case you don't remember, this was your plan."

 Buffy frowned. "I've changed my mind. It's a stupid plan."

 "No. It's a good plan—and it's working. No reason to back out now."

 "I just...I get so nervous when you're away. Anything could be happening to you, and there would be nothing I could do about it. And...and tomorrow's Christmas."

 Spike stroked her cheek with his thumb, delight filling him at the thought that she actually cared about him. "I know. I'll come back tonight."

 "You promise?"

 "Yes." Spike kissed her, gently at first then harder, trying to reassure her in a way words could not. When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes. "You know I have to do this, Slayer. Hopefully, things will go well tonight, and you won't have to spend Christmas day kicking around some big bad."

 "Which would be a step up from last Christmas."

 "Yeah? What happened last Christmas?"

 Buffy looked away suddenly. Had it only been a year since she'd been on that ledge, begging Angel not to give up? A year since she'd walked in the snow with him, so certain her first love would be her only love? "It was...it was nothing. A thing with...a thing with Angel."

 Spike frowned. "Oh."

 Buffy looked at him again, forcing a bright smile. "So you'll be back tonight?"

 "Yeah, I will."

 Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she watched him go.

 "You are here, vampire."

 "Well, yeah. Where else would I be?"

 Dejira smirked. "I was beginning to wonder that myself. You're late."

 Spike shrugged. "Had a hard time getting away. Didn't want the Slayer to figure out what I was up to."

 "Or maybe you were too busy helping her kill demons my employer sent to spy on her—again."

 "What did you expect me to do? Sit back and let her fight them alone and then explain why I didn't do a damn thing to help? My in with the Slayer depends on her thinking I'm on her side. If I had let those demons get the jump on her, then I could have kissed that goodbye."

 "Then your defense of her was quite convincing," Dejira said with a scowl. "And it killed two of my best assassins."

 "Yeah, well, you know us vampires—hard to curb ourselves when it comes to a spot of violence."

 "Yes. Part of what makes you such detestable creatures."

 "Right. Look, I thought I came here for something other than a chat about things I already know. So let's get to it. How are we killing the Slayer?"

 "Patience—another virtue vampires tend to lack. Still...for a halfbreed, you are an attractive specimen." Dejira ran a finger down Spike's cheek. "I suppose I can see why the Slayer would be easily fooled by your treachery—such a pretty face."

 "Oi—not pretty. Handsome, yeah. But not pretty."

 "Yes, of course. Can't insult your precious masculinity." Dejira moved closer, pressing herself against him. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to prove to me that your heart does not truly belong to that little girl—would you?"

 "Shouldn't there be enough proof just in the fact that I'm a vampire and she's a Slayer? Sorta natural enemies there."

 "Although this particular Slayer has been known to capture the hearts of vampires in the past."

 "Um, actually, it was just the one. And he's a pathetic excuse for a creature of the night—all soul having and whatnot. And he's got this weird thing he does with his hair—sticks right up in the front. Bloody git..."

 "You ramble as if you're nervous. Am I making you nervous?"

 "Me? No." Spike relaxed his stance. "So, you want a little proof I don't love the Slayer? Just tell me how."

 "Bed me."

 Spike's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

 "If you are not hers, then you should have no problem passing the night in my bed."

 "Well, that's a bit presumptuous, don't you think? Did you every consider maybe I'm not attracted to you?"

 Dejira laughed. "You're a vampire. I'm a body—and a rather beautiful one at that. What more is needed?"

 "Possibly a bit of atmosphere. I'm not much of one for abandoned warehouse throwdowns myself."

 Dejira ran her hand up his arm. "Then we can find a place where we can be more...comfortable. A few drinks first perhaps? Would that get you in the mood?"

 "Depends. What do you have to drink?"

 "It's beginning to sound to me like you love her. Either you prove that wrong, or this is off."

 "I told you, I don't love the little chit! Bloody hell, I'm a vampire. We don't love. We feed and we fuck. Nothing more."

 "Mmm. Then you will be mine tonight." Dejira leaned in, pressing her lips to Spike's.

 The first taste of her mouth made his head spin, and Dejira tightened her grip around him.

 "Buffy, dear, are you hungry? You skipped dinner, and..."

 Buffy didn't look away from the window. "I'm fine, Mom."

 "Honey, I know you're worried about Spike, but he'd want you to eat you know."

 Buffy smirked. "That's a lame attempt, you know."

 "Well, I have to try something. Giles and I are both worried about you out here, just waiting."

 "I can't do anything else. I'm too nervous."

 Joyce knelt in front of the chair Buffy was sitting in. "Buffy, it's Christmas Eve. I know Spike is out there, but he'll be fine. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

 "And then I'll be Christmasy. Right now I just can't think about anything else, okay?"

 Joyce frowned, regarding her daughter for a moment. "You really do care about him, don't you?"

 Buffy looked her mother in the eye. "I do. I know just a week ago I hated him—or at least I thought I did—but something's happened, and now...god, I don't know if I can call it love, but I feel something. Something strong."

 Joyce tucked a piece of Buffy's hair behind her ear. "Just be careful, Buffy. I don't want to see you hurt again."

 "And I don't want to be hurt again. But...but I trust Spike when he tells me he's changing. I can see it in his eyes."

 Joyce stood again. "I can't say I like this, but if Spike is what you want, then I won't stand in your way."

 "Thank you, Mom. That means a lot to me."

 Joyce nodded. "I'm going to go in the kitchen to see if Giles needs anything. Come let me know if you decide you're hungry."

 "I will. Oh, and Mom?"

 "Yes, Buffy?"

 "Stay out of the eggnog."

 Rupert looked up from the text he was reading when Joyce walked into the kitchen. "Is she going to eat something?"

 "No. She won't leave that spot by the window. She's too worried about him."

 "This is insane. He's a vampire. She should be hoping he doesn't come back."

 "It isn't that simple, Rupert," Joyce said, sitting across from him at the small kitchen table. "No matter what the circumstances, when two people share something that's...special...it connects them."

 Giles looked up sharply. "Joyce...I..." Suddenly, he stopped, rising slowly. "Dear lord."

 "Rupert, what is..." Joyce stopped as she turned around to catch a glimpse of what Giles was seeing through the window. "Oh my god."

 "Joyce, get Buffy. Now."

 Joyce nodded, running from the kitchen, the sound of glass shattering behind her as the window crashed in. "Buffy! Demons in the kitchen!"

 Buffy jumped up immediately. "Stay here. I'll go kill them."

 "Honey, there's tons of them."

 "I can handle it. Just stay out of it, okay? And if they come in here, run."

 Joyce nodded, her eyes wide with fear. Buffy ran into the kitchen to find Giles surrounded by grenbreks. "I thought you said they only traveled in groups of three!" Buffy said as she fended off one that attacked her.

 "They do! I'm sure if we were to count these, we'd find that they were numbered a multiple of three." He stabbed a demon with a knife he'd pulled from one of the drawers, cursing as it oozed into the floorboards.

 "Great. Let's ask them to pause for a moment so we can do a quick headcount."

 "Buffy!"

 Buffy froze. "Mom!" She turned back towards the living room, but was stopped when two grenbreks grabbed her, pulling her back. She swiped at them futilely, until suddenly, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head, and her world went black.

 When Buffy came to, she was lying on the kitchen floor with a splitting headache. She sat up, immediately regretting it as the world began to swim. She clutched her head, groaning, and tried to remember how she'd gotten here. Kitchen...Grenbreks...Ugh. She looked beside her to see Giles, unconscious. She pressed her fingers to his neck, grateful to find a pulse.

 Buffy shook him lightly. "Giles! Giles, wake up! Giles, we have to..."

 She stopped, her face growing pale as she remembered the last thing before she'd been knocked out. Her mother... She got up, ignoring her body's protests as she ran into the living room. "Mom! Mom, please, answer me!" Buffy stopped, looking in horror at the open front door and the bloodied trail leading to it.

 "Buffy," Giles called to her as he stumbled out of the kitchen, clutching his head. "What happened?"

 "They got her, Giles," Buffy said, tears in her eyes. "They got my mom."

 Giles swayed slightly before finding the wall, propping himself against it. "Joyce...no..."

 Buffy swallowed, straightening herself. "We're gonna find her, Giles. Now. They couldn't have gotten far."

 "Buffy, as much as I want to find Joyce, we cannot afford to be rash. We have no idea where they've taken her. If we just take off with no plan we could end up making things worse."

 "Worse? How could things get worse? Giles, demons took my mother—and there's...there's blood. It doesn't get worse."

 "Yes it bloody well does! Dammit, Buffy, I am your Watcher, and..."

 "No, you're not. Remember the whole quitting the Council thing I did? I'm going to save my mother now. You can tag along, or you can sit here and play overly-cautious guy. Either one."

 "You're putting her in more danger this way."

 "Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is I can't sit around here while my mother is very possibly being taken to her death. So are you with me?"

 Giles sighed. "Let's get the weapons."

 Spike woke slowly, a strange feeling tugging at his brain. There was a woman beside him, but her scent told him it was distinctly not Buffy. He frowned.

 "I thought you would never wake. Had you taken any longer, and it would've been sunrise. Bet you would've had a hard time explaining that to the Slayer?" Dejira smiled seductively, running her fingernails down Spike's bare chest.

 "Where...where are my clothes?"

 Dejira giggled, a decidedly strange sound coming from her. "Who knows, the way we were throwing them about. I had heard vampires were passionate, but I had no idea to what extent. Maybe I should rethink my contempt for your race."

 "Yeah, maybe," Spike said distractedly as he attempted to locate his clothing. After a small amount of difficulty, he found them all, dressing quickly. He looked nervously back at Dejira, who was stretched out on the bed, nude. He frowned. "How exactly did we get here?"

 Dejira sat up. "Come now, don't tell me you had that much to drink. Now go on back home to your little Buffy before she gets suspicious." She winked.

 "Right. Sun's almost up and everything," Spike replied, backing away from the bed.

 "Oh, and Spike?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Thank you for your help with our plans for the Slayer. I'm not sure we could have done it without you."

 "What do you mean?"

 "By staying good and distracted while my boys went in and captured the bait for our trap, of course. That certainly would've been much harder if they'd had a vampire to fend off as well."

 Spike snarled. "What did you do?"

 "I didn't do anything, seeing as I was here with you. But my friends, well, they paid your girlfriend a little visit. Oh, and before you come after me right now, just know that when they left her, she was unconscious. Her life could be ticking away right now."

 Spike gave Dejira one last look of warning before running out of the room. He could deal with her later, when Buffy's life wasn't on the line. Or at least as much...

 Dejira lay down on the bed again, smiling to herself.

 That had been all too easy...

 Before anyone freaks on me for this one, just let me say this: Trust me. I promised holiday fluff, and I plan to deliver.

 Review please!

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

 Spike burst into the cabin, relief rolling over him in waves as he saw Buffy. He ran to her, holding her as tightly as he  could without crushing her. "You're alive. Buffy, I was so worried..."

 Buffy let herself relax in his embrace for only a moment before pulling away. "They took my mom," she said, tears  filling her eyes again. "There were so many demons, and I couldn't fight them all, and...and they got her."

 Spike remembered what Dejira had said to him before he left. "They're using Joyce as bait—using her to set a trap for  you."

 Buffy's eyes grew wide. "Is that what you learned tonight?"

 "Yeah. I didn't..."

 Before Spike could finish, he felt someone grab him, pining him against the wall. Spike looked up at Giles in shock,  having been so focused on Buffy that he hadn't realized the other man had come into the room. "You knew what they  were going to do to Joyce," Giles accused. "You knew, and you let it happen."

 "No! I swear, I didn't! Dejira tricked me, kept me out of the way. She only said something about getting bait for a  trap—didn't say it was Joyce—and even that wasn't until the end. Ran back here as soon as she told me what she'd  done."

 Buffy placed her hand on the Watcher's shoulder. "Let him go, Giles. He didn't sell my mother out. He wouldn't do  that."

 "Yes, he would! He's evil Buffy."

 "He wouldn't, and he didn't. Just let him go so we can save her, all right?" With obvious reluctance, Giles dropped  Spike. Buffy nodded. "Good. Now I believe we were going after the demons that took my mother."

 "Buffy, I'm afraid in light of what Spike has just told us, I must again protest your rash plan of action. You will be  walking into a trap."

 "I know I will—but what happens if we don't take the bait? There's a good chance that they've left her alive if they want  to lure me with her, but if we don't hurry, they might kill her. We don't have any choice."

 "You could also be putting her in more danger this way."

 "We don't have time for this!" Buffy turned back to Spike. "Do you have any idea where they may have taken her?"

 "I'm not sure, but Dejira brought me somewhere not far from here. Could be a place to start at least. I think I could tell  you how to get there. I had to find my way back at least partly by tracking a scent."

 "What scent?" Buffy asked.

 "Yours."

 Buffy blushed at his simple answer. Somehow, the thought that Spike knew her scent that well affected her in ways she  hadn't expected. When it had come to Angel, his ability to track someone by their scent had always slightly unnerved  her, but this... Buffy shook her head. This was not the time to go there. "Spike, you giving us directions isn't good  enough. I need you with me for this."

 "Can't. Sun's going to be up soon. Won't do you a lot of good as a pile of dust."

 "This place of Dejira's—did it have a lot of windows?"

 "No."

 "Good. Giles, there's a town a few miles up the road. Go there and get some black paint. We're going to sunproof the  car."

 "Buffy, this is..."

 "Dammit, Watcher, would you knock it off?" Spike yelled. "All your protesting is just wasting time for Joyce."

 "But this is insanity! You have to know Buffy is rushing into danger—hell, you probably set it up that way. Besides, all  the stores will be closed at this hour—and on Christmas no less."

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Would you quit it with Spike? And if the stores are closed, then just go all Rippery and break in.  We don't have time for you to get all moral on me."

 "Buffy..."

 "Either you go, or I do. Do you have any idea how badly I drive?"

 "Right. Well, I'll be back soon then."

 "Is he always this much of a git?" Spike asked once Giles had left.

 "Sometimes. He can be like a dog with a bone. Especially since he's thinking you're part of the whole trap thing."

 "He's not completely daft in that, you know." When Buffy looked at him in surprise, Spike quickly added, "Not that he's  right. Just if I were in his position, I'd worry, too. Although I don't think I'd be such a damn broken record about the  whole thing."

 Buffy threw her arms around Spike suddenly, holding him close. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I...I  trust you. I know I probably shouldn't, but I do." When she felt Spike stiffen in her arms, Buffy looked up. "Is  something wrong? Other than the obvious, I mean."

 "No. Sorry. It's just...been a long day."

 Buffy pulled away, reaching down to give his hand a lingering squeeze as she did. "I'm going to go heat you up some  blood. If things get ugly, I'll need you at full strength."

 "Buffy, you don't have to..."

 Buffy silenced him with a kiss. "I told you—full strength, gonna need it. I'll be right back."

 Spike nodded, letting her go. When she came back, she found him sitting in a corner of the room, avoiding the sun. She  handed him the mug, sitting beside him. "You could go in the bedroom, you know."

 "I'm fine here."

 Buffy rested her head on his shoulder, frowning when he didn't respond to her at all. "Spike, what's wrong? And don't  tell me it's nothing, because I know that's a lie."

 "I'm worried about Joyce."

 "No, it's more than that. What's going on?"

 Spike was silent for a moment before he finally responded. "I let you down."

 "What?"

 "I should've been here, helping you fight those demons. I never should've gone off to meet Dejira. You were right—it  was a bad idea."

 "Spike, this isn't your fault. There were so many of them, I'm not even sure you being here would've made a  difference."

 "How many were there?"

 "I don't know. Some multiple of three."

 "What?"

 "Never mind." Buffy kissed his cheek. "Don't blame yourself for this, please. Just help me get her back."

 "I will. Your mum will be home for Christmas, Buffy."

 "I'm falling in love with you."

 Spike coughed. "What?"

 Buffy looked down at the floor. "I...I don't think I'm there yet, but I'm...I'm heading that way. I just thought you should  know."

 Spike smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you. That's...that's the best Christmas present you could have given  me."

 Buffy nestled against him, taking comfort in his strength as they waited for Giles.

 Buffy surveyed their handiwork, frowning. "I really hope my mom doesn't get all mad 'cause I painted her car windows  black."

 Giles wiped his brow. "Yes, well, hopefully she'll understand it was done in an attempt to save her life."

 "Yeah, that's the outcome I'm hoping for, too. And it'll come off, won't it?"

 "With a little work, yes, it should."

 'I'm going to go in and get Spike."

 "Buffy, I know you won't listen, but..."

 "You're right. I won't listen—because I've heard it. Just go with me on this one, okay? And if I'm wrong, well, then  we'll end up dead, and you can spend eternity in the afterlife nagging me about it."

 Giles chuckled. "Well, I suppose there is some consolation in that."

 "Start up the car. I'll be right back."

 "How exactly am I supposed to drive with almost the entire windshield black?"

 "Carefully?"

 "Yes, of course. How silly of me to even ask," Giles replied sarcastically. He sighed at the look on Buffy's face. "I'll go  start the car."

 "You do that."

 A few moments later, Buffy reemerged from the cabin, Spike running beside her with a blanket thrown over him. Once  in the car, he threw it to the floorboards, stamping out the small fire that had started. "Well then, he said, smoothing  back his hair, "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

 Joyce woke to find herself in an unfamiliar room, tied to a chair. A tall, raven haired woman stood in front of her, a glint  in her silver eyes. "What is going on?" Joyce demanded.

 "Mrs. Summers, I see you are awake. My name is Dejira, and let me welcome you to my home. I am so pleased that  you will be spending this holiday here with me, watching me kill your daughter in a slow and painful manner."

 Joyce struggled with her bonds, although she knew that she wouldn't be able to loosen the ropes. "You won't stand a  chance against Buffy," Joyce said, a hint of motherly pride in her voice.

 "Please." Dejira waved her hand. "As if anyone with a name like Buffy would stand a chance against me."

 "Hey! I gave her that name!"

 "And what a silly woman you are."

 Joyce glared. "You obviously don't know my daughter. Buffy is going to kill you."

 "And let me guess—her vampire lover will help?" Dejira laughed. "Although he's not really hers at all. He's mine. Do you  honestly think he just got lucky in finding me the other night, or that he was actually here for a meeting last night?  Please. He's been mine all along, and that pathetic daughter of yours played right into our hands."

 "You're lying."

 "Believe what you want, Mrs. Summers. You'll be dead soon enough anyway."

 Joyce said nothing, only narrowing her eyes. Whoever this woman was, Joyce knew that she had seriously  underestimated her daughter.

 "Are you sure this is it?"

 Spike peered out the tiny break in the black paint, careful not to let the sunlight hit him directly. "Yes. This is it."

 "It was remarkably close to the cabin."

 Spike rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. My thinking is that's on purpose. This bitch has been spying on Buffy—it would  make sense that she'd be close enough to do that effectively."

 "Right. I guess it would."

 "Giles, come with me," Buffy said from the backseat. "I'm going to make sure the door is open before Spike gets out.  We don't want him burning up on the doorstep."

 "We don't?"

 Buffy shot her Watcher a look. "Stop it."

 Giles muttered to himself, getting out of the car and following Buffy to the front door. She shook the handle a couple of  times before sighing and kicking it in. "Well, I suppose that's one way to open it," Giles said.

 "Spike!" Buffy yelled. "Come on!"

 "Way to be discreet," Giles said. "I'm sure none of the evil things inside know we're here now."

 "Giles, we're here to kill them, not throw a surprise party. The sooner they show up, the sooner I can lop off their  heads and save my mother."

 Spike ran up then, coming inside and throwing the blanket to the ground. "So we killing nasties now?"

 "That was the plan," Buffy said, handing him one of the swords she was carrying. "Let's go save my mother."

 "Do you really think he wants to help you?"

 Spike sighed heavily as Dejira walked out of the shadows. "Bollocks, you are home. I was sort of hoping you would've  thrown yourself in front of a bus since the last time I saw you."

 "Darling, is that any way to talk to me after our night of passion?"

 Buffy looked up sharply at Spike. "What is she talking about?"

 "What, he didn't tell you?" Dejira asked with a smile. "While you were busy with my demons, your vampire was busy  with me." She laughed at the stricken look on Buffy's face. "Oh, you poor, naïve little girl. Did you really think you'd be  enough to satisfy him?"

 "Buffy, I didn't. Please, luv, you have to believe me." Spike grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I  don't know what happened last night, but I know I didn't sleep with her."

 Dejira walked to Spike, running her hand along his arm. "Tell her the truth, darling. Tell her how you woke earlier this  morning. Was it not in my bed—without your clothes?"

 "Balls," Spike muttered under his breath. "Okay, yeah, that happened—but I didn't shag her. She did something to me,  drugged me some how. She says that we were drinking, and that's why I didn't remember, but Buffy, I don't even  remember drinking, never mind getting drunk enough to want her."

 "That's the best you can come up with?" Dejira asked. "That's pathetic." She looked at Buffy. "Please don't tell me  you're going to believe that load of rubbish."

 Buffy turned on Dejira, a sneer on her face. "Actually, bitch, I am. Because you know, even with Drusilla and Harmony  in his past, Spike still has better taste than you. So answer me now before I hack you into tiny, skanky little  pieces—Where. Is. My. Mother?"

 "Foolish child. You walked into my trap—therefore, you are going to die. It is as simple as that."

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Apparently, you don't know how this works. I'm the Slayer—and I'm gonna win. So we can do  this the hard way, or we can do it the easy way. It doesn't really matter to me, because in the end, I'm going to walk  away."

 "I don't think so." Dejira snapped her fingers and twelve grenbrek demons stepped into the room. "Kill them, boys."

 Buffy, Spike, and Giles stood in the center of the room, swords raised as the grenbreks closed in on them. "I told you  this was a bad idea," Giles said.

 "Yes, but did you have a better one?" Buffy asked.

 "Well, um, no."

 "Exactly. Now shut up and start killing some demons."

 Giles sighed as the fight begun.

 Did you actually think I'd have Spike cheat on Buffy? Oh ye of little faith...

 I would like to say a little something to the people that bitched me out—my feelings are a bit hurt. I'm not talking about  the people who fell for my little ploy and thought Spike did sleep with Dejira. I mean the few of you that totally wrote  off the story. I feel like I have been delivering a fairly good story so far with an obvious love of the spuffiness, and it  hurt a bit to see that you would lose all faith in me so quickly. As a writer, I like to feel like I should be able to have plot  twists like that without having to fear that people will stop reading in the middle because of one chapter that was in  actuality, rather ambiguous. If any of you are still reading, please give me a little more time before you jump on me in  the future, okay? I even went as far as to promise fluffiness in the author's note, hinting that things weren't as bad as  they seemed, to try to prevent that, and I still got a few cold reviews. Expressing nervousness I understand, but I'd  really rather not have my story condemned before it's even finished. After it's done if you still don't like it, flame away if  you must, but if you've been enjoying it for this long, don't cut me loose so suddenly. Honestly, I wouldn't want Spike  to do that to Buffy anymore than you would... Thanks!

 Reviews would be much appreciated.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike and Buffy stuck together for Christmas... (Can anyone say warm fuzzy holiday fluff?)

Spoilers: Up through "Hush"

Author's Note: This story takes place sorta between "Hush" and "Doomed," even though the beginning of "Doomed" is like five seconds after "Hush." So, it's in some imaginary block of time after the discussion Buffy and Riley have in her dorm room. And after that, it's all off-canon from there. And for this fic, Spike has yet to find out he can hit a demon, and he never moved out of Giles's apartment. He went back after Olivia left. Everyone clear on that? Good.

Also, this fic is total fluff. I felt like writing a warm and fuzzy holiday fic just cause. Hope you like it. :)

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the gift that keeps on giving. As for archiving, I usually allow it, just let me know before you post anything of mine. I like to know where my stuff is.

 It wouldn't have been that long ago that Buffy would've found the fact that Spike was behind her holding a sword anything but comforting. But now, as they were surrounded by demons determined to make this her last day on earth, there was no one she'd rather have by her side.

 "Slayer! On your left!" Buffy moved as soon as she heard his voice, almost without thinking. She brought her sword down hard, watching as the demon's head tumbled to the ground. She spared Spike a quick glance, their eyes meeting for a second and letting each other know that they were still on top in this fight.

 Giles stepped back from the battle, the demons paying him little attention, not seeing him as the real threat to them. He allowed himself only a moment to observe Buffy and Spike, amazed at what he saw. He'd been certain that Spike would turn on them as soon as they arrived, but he hadn't. Instead, he was fighting at the Slayer's side, and Giles knew that the vampire was not holding back.

 And truth be told, the two of them fighting together was an amazing sight to behold. They moved almost in tandem, each one seemingly aware of what the other was doing without looking. Giles had a sinking feeling that he'd been wrong—that maybe Buffy had been so adamant about the vampire's change not because she was blind, but because she was seeing something that he had not.

 But it wasn't the time to suss any of that out. Joyce was still in trouble, and he needed to find her. He looked at Dejira, seeing that she was busy yelling orders to her demons. He noticed a hall and went down it, checking the first door he encountered for Joyce. He peeked in, frowning when he found it empty. A second door yielded the same results.

 When the third one he tried was locked, Giles knew he'd found her. He banged against the door a few times until he felt the wood splinter against him.

 "Rupert!" Joyce exclaimed with relief as she saw Giles enter the room.

 Giles ran to her, cutting the ropes that bound her with his sword, and Joyce stood, rubbing her sore wrists. "Thank goodness you got here," she said. "I was really beginning to worry. Is Buffy here? Dejira…"

 Joyce grew silent, her eyes wide as Giles grabbed her, pulling her to him for a passionate kiss. After a second of shock, Joyce responded, wrapping her arms around him. When he pulled away, she looked up at him, blinking. "What…what was that?"

 Giles stepped back, taking his glasses off for a cleaning. "I…was worried. They took you, and you could've been dead, and…" He replaced his glasses. "Buffy is fighting in the other room. We should go…check on that. But stay behind me."

 Joyce just gave him a nod, knowing she had to let the moment go. She knew it had been his fear that something had happened to her that had elicited that response, nothing more.

 Still, she couldn't help but press her fingers to her lips as she followed him out of the room.

 With only two of the grenbreks remaining, Buffy knew it was time to move on to bigger things. Spike had the demons under control.

 Dejira needed to find out why you didn't mess with a Slayer…

 Fear was apparent in Dejira's inhuman eyes as Buffy moved towards her. She called for her demons, but they didn't respond, too busy with Spike. Buffy backed Dejira against a wall, pinning the demoness there with her sword resting below her chin. "Care to tell me why you tried to ruin my Christmas?"

 "You deserve death!"

 "I kinda figured you felt that way, seeing as you've been trying to kill me and all, but it really doesn't answer my question. So tell me now—who do you work for, and where is he? I'd like to kill him, too."

 "I work for no one. That was merely a ploy to keep your pet interested enough to want to meet with me again. When I first saw that you had brought a vampire with you, I feared that it would ruin my plan, but then I realized that it would be an advantage. I knew you would send him to me, and I knew I could convince him to meet with me alone. I was hoping that I could cause a little more damage by seducing him, but it doesn't matter now. You're going to die, and the Hellmouth will finally be rid of its irritating little Slayer problem. Oh, and then I can unleash hell on earth, et cetera, et cetera. I have an apocalypse planned for shortly after the new year."

 "You are one crazy bitch. And as for killing me, I believe I'm the one with the sword at your throat."

 "Not for long."

 The door behind Buffy opened, allowing more demons to spill out. Spike tried to run to Buffy, only to be blocked by the demons that now surrounded her. Buffy heard him call her name as a grenbrek grabbed her, throwing her across the room, Buffy's sword falling to the ground.

 Dejira laughed, picking up the sword and advancing on the Slayer. "Looks like maybe things aren't as good for you as you thought, are they? Now, I'm going to kill you. And then, I'm going to kill the vampire." Dejira smiled. "Or perhaps, I should kill him first. Would you like to watch?"

 Buffy looked up, narrowing her eyes. "You stay the hell away from my boyfriend."

 "You aren't in any position to be threatening me."

 Buffy kicked Dejira's hand, sending the sword into the air. She leapt up, catching the weapon in midair, and landing on her feet, back in front of the demon. "How about now?"

 Dejira snapped her fingers, bringing three demons advancing on Buffy. Buffy swung, decapitating two with one long arch before quickly disposing of the third as well. She stalked towards Dejira, reveling in the fear in the demon's eyes. "So you really thought your screwed up little plan would take care of the Slayer?" Buffy grinned. "Kinda looks like you were wrong."

 Buffy thrust the sword forward, burying it firmly planting it in Dejira's chest. Dejira looked at her in shock for a moment before sliding off the blade and crumpling to the floor.

 Suddenly, the grenbreks stopped their attack, filing out of the building. Buffy ran to Spike's side, watching as they left. "Two questions: Where are they going, and should we go after them?"

 "I'm guessing with Dejira dead, their contract with her is void. And as for the second part, I'm voting for no."

 "I'll second that," Buffy said. "I think I've had my fill of holiday slayage fun."

 Spike looked over at Dejira's body and smirked. "I'll say you did. Bitch should've known better than to mess with my girl."

 Buffy reached out, touching Spike's shoulder. "You're hurt. It looks kinda bad."

 "One of them got me pretty good with its claws, but I'm all right."

 "We're going to need to patch it up," Buffy said. "There's not anything in the car, but the cabin isn't far, so…"

 "Buffy, as endearing as you fussing over me is, I'm fine. Really."

 "I'm not…"

 "Buffy!"

 Buffy looked up, the relief obvious in her eyes when she saw her mother running towards her. Buffy hugged Joyce tightly. "I was so worried."

 "I'm okay," Joyce assured her daughter. "A little shaken from being kidnapped, but not too hurt."

 "There…there was blood. I saw a trail out the door."

 "I think one of the demons hit me in the back of the head," Joyce said. She touched her hair. "I have a slight headache, and I'm sure my hair is a mess, but it's not bad."

 "Where exactly did all the demons go?" Giles asked. "This place was full when I went to find Joyce."

 "We killed all those," Buffy said, her arm still around her mother. "But then there were more. They left."

 Giles raised an eyebrow. "Left?"

 "Yeah. Right after I killed Dejira. Spike says they probably took off because their contract is void now."

 "We should do a bit of investigation, make sure…"

 Buffy cut him off. "Giles, I'm tired. It's Christmas, and I just want to go back to the cabin, sit around the tree, and drink some sort of hot beverage."

 "Yes, well, I supposed if there are any more problems, they'll find us."

 "Don't they always?" Buffy said as she walked with her mother towards the door.

                                        *** *** ***

 Buffy sat on the floor beside the fire, resting against Spike, his hands wrapped loosely around her waist. She glanced over to the other side of the living room where her mother and Giles were sitting, talking. She thought for a fleeting second that her mother may be flirting, but then pushed that out of her mind due to the extreme creepiness factor.

 "You know," she said, tilting her head to look back at Spike. "This has been a pretty good Christmas."

 "You spent the first part of it fighting for your life."

 "Well, yeah, but…" She smiled at him. "This part is good. Warm real-wood fire and boyfriend snuggles—definitely of the good."

 "Boyfriend, huh?"

 Buffy blushed. "I, um…that's what you are now, right?"

 "Kitten, I'm anything you want me to be."

 Buffy's eyes lit up. "Oooh. I think I might have fun with that."

 Spike smirked. "With that look, I think I might, too."

 "Oh, I just remembered, I got you a present," Buffy said, moving out of his arms.

 "When exactly did you find the time to get me a present," Spike asked with a frown.

 "Before we got here," Buffy said. "Mom kinda made me. Although now I'm glad she did." Buffy gave him a quick kiss. "Be right back."

 Buffy returned a few moments later, a brightly wrapped package in her hands. "Here."

 Spike looked at it for a moment. "You bought this when you hated me. I'm a bit nervous…"

 Buffy sat beside him. "Don't be. It's not an 'I hate you' present. I promise."

 Spike tore off the paper, his eyes growing wide when he saw the pink and green album cover. "You got me the Sex Pistols?"

 Buffy looked down, blushing a little. "Xander said he caught Harmony burning yours a little while back, and I thought…I thought you might like it."

 Spike grinned, pulling her to him for a kiss. "I love it. Does make me feel a bit guilty that I didn't have the foresight to by my then mortal enemy anything, though."

 Buffy traced the pattern of the grain of the wood floor. "I just didn't know what else to get, and Mom was telling me to hurry, and I saw it, and…"

 "I'll get you something when we get back to Sunnydale," Spike promised, running a hand through her hair.

 Buffy looked back up. "Or you could just promise never to play it around me. That would be a good present."

 Spike chuckled. "I don't know, Slayer. I bet I could convince you of the finer points of punk music."

 "Somehow, I just don't see that happening."

 "Not even if I was the one singin' it?"

 Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please. You probably don't even have a good singing voice."

 Spike pulled her to him, pressing his lips to her ear and singing softly.

 "I'm in love again
 Been like this before
 I'm in love again
 This time's true I'm sure

 Don't wanna end up like no nine day wonder
 I've been hurt so many times before
 So my darlin' I will never leave you
 It's in my blood to always love you more
 Love you more"

 Buffy shivered, his voice rolling over her, setting her on fire. She jumped to her feet, yawning loudly. "You know, all the excitement today has really worn me out. I think I'm going to go take a nice Christmas nap."

 Spike looked at her in confusion for a moment before he caught what she was doing. "You know, me, too," he said, standing up. "Been quite a day."

 Buffy took his hand and pulled him along behind her, ignoring her mother and Giles as she did.

 As soon as the door shut behind them, Buffy tackled Spike to the bed, ripping his shirt from his chest. Spike looked at her in shock. "Buffy?"

 "Shh. I'm unwrapping my Christmas present."

 Spike grinned then. "You like it?"

 "Yep. Just what I wanted." Buffy leaned down, licking Spike's chest slowly, causing him to moan. She pulled up again, pulling off her on shirt then her bra, loving the way Spike stared at her bare chest with unabashed hunger. "So do you see something you want?"

 Spike nodded, loving the way that Buffy was taking charge. She'd been a bit nervous and reserved in their previous encounters, but now she seemed to be relaxing around him, letting the sensual nature he'd known was there break through to the surface. "I do," he said, his voice already rough with need.

 "Guess I better let you have it then, this being the season of giving and all." She leaned down, and Spike immediately caught one of her nipples in his mouth, moaning around the hardened peak. Buffy shivered, grabbing on to the headboard for support and grinding her denim-clad pelvis against his. "Spike," she said after a few moments. "I need you inside me—need it so much."

 Reluctantly, he released her from his mouth, letting her finish undressing. Once he had done the same, Buffy straddled him again, positioning herself above his aching cock. She met his eyes before sliding down, crying out at the sensation of him filling her.

 Spike hissed as her heat surrounded him, grabbing hold of her hips to steady her descent. "Nothing's ever felt this good, Buffy," he said once he was buried fully inside of her. "Nothing."

 "For me, too," Buffy said, bracing herself on his chest. "This…this is perfect." She started to move then, her eyes sliding closed as she found her rhythm.

 Spike watched her in awe, having the sense that she was surrounding him. He felt as if her golden skin, her hair the color of sunshine, should burn him, but instead he was allowed to bask in her warmth. He wondered if she had any idea what she felt like to him, if she knew that every time he slid into her he felt as if he were coming home.

 He was hers, completely—whether she liked it or not.

 Buffy opened her eyes, entranced by the look of wonder on his face. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to earlier, when Dejira had claimed to have slept with Spike the night before. Although she'd been able to see through the demon's ploy—the woman lied worse than Xander—the thought of anyone else touching Spike flooded her with jealousy. He was hers, dammit. She began to ride him harder, her nails scraping down his chest.

 Her name fell from his lips with a whimper as he moved with her. He tilted his head against the pillow, and Buffy's eyes fell to his neck. She felt something pull from inside her, and without thinking she leaned down, biting him hard enough to draw blood.

 Spike snarled as he felt her teeth in his neck, his face changing to its vampiric form. He flipped her over, pumping into her a few times before sinking his fangs into her skin, pulling her blood even as he shuddered with orgasm. Buffy screamed in pleasure, coming in time with him, clutching his body tightly against hers.

 When the ecstasy became too much, her world went dark.

 When Buffy woke, Spike was sitting beside her, his face buried in his hands. She reached out, softly laying her hand on his arm. He pulled away. "Buffy, you shouldn't…you shouldn't touch me."

 Buffy frowned. "What's wrong?"

 He dropped his hands, looking at her in disbelief. "What's wrong? Do you have any idea what I just did to you?"

 "Made me scream?"

 "I bit you."

 "I bit you first."

 "Buffy, I lost control. I…I could've hurt you."

 Buffy sat up, wrapping her arms around him. "Did the chip go off?"

 "No." Spike's eyes widened. "Do you think it stopped working?"

 "No, you silly vampire. I'm saying you didn't hurt me."

 "But I could have."

 "But you didn't."

 "Buffy…"

 Buffy laid her finger against his mouth. "Shh. Don't let this get around since it would so no be good for my reputation, being the Slayer and all, but the biting thing—kinda hot." She grinned. "Okay, really hot."

 Spike looked at her in awe. For the first time since his run in with the Initiative, he was grateful for the chip, knowing he wouldn't have ended up here without it. "You are one amazing woman, Buffy Summers."

 Buffy smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand and pulling him in for a long, lazy kiss.

 Joyce and Giles sat in the kitchen, staring at the table and trying to ignore the noises coming from the bedroom. "So, um, how is your head?" Giles asked.

 "It's fine," Joyce replied. "Doesn't really hurt anymore."

 "That's good."

 An awkward silence filled the room, punctuated by the occasional moan or scream. "More eggnog?" Joyce asked.

 "Please."

 Joyce got up, walking to Giles to take his cup. Her hand brushed against his, and he looked up at her, his blue eyes suddenly dark. He stood, grabbing Joyce to him and kissing her, the cup shattering as it hit the ground.

 Giles scooped Joyce up, carrying her off to the bedroom.

 One more chapter to go… Leave me some reviews, please. Nice early Christmas present…

 Thank you to everyone who had such kind things to say after the last chapter. They made me feel a lot better!

 Also, in case anyone is wondering, the song Spike sings to Buffy is "Love You More" by the Buzzcocks.
 

Buffy walked out of the bedroom, a small smile on her face. Joyce came out of her own bedroom at almost the same time, glancing over at her daughter quickly with a look of nervousness Buffy didn't quite understand.

That is, until Giles walked out right behind her.

Buffy gaped. "What were you two doing?" she asked before her brain could tell her mouth that she really didn't want to know the answer to that particular question.

Joyce gave Buffy a smug grin. "Taking a Christmas nap."

"Oh my god! I can't…ew!"

Spike came out of the bedroom then, noticing the look of absolute horror on Buffy's face. "What's wrong, luv?"

She pointed to Joyce and Giles. "They were 'napping,'" she hissed.

Spike chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Come on, lamb. Let's just go to the kitchen."

"But…but…emotionally scared for life here!"

"Buffy, what's that on your neck?"

As soon as the question was out of Joyce's mouth, Giles strode across the living room, pushing Buffy's hair to the side. His eyes flashed with anger, and he started towards Spike, only to have Buffy hold him back. "Giles, calm down!" Buffy said.

"Calm down! I know what those marks on your neck are. He bit you."

Buffy couldn't help but blush. "It was just a little bite. And it didn't hurt…"

"How can you be so bloody irresponsible about this! If he's biting you—which is in of itself a bad thing—then his chip isn't working. He's a killer again, Buffy!"

"Okay, first, I haven't killed a bloody thing since I got this chip." Spike frowned. "Well, expect some demons, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about that. And second…" He punched Giles in the face, clutching his head in pain right afterwards.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" Giles yelled, rubbing his face.

"Wanted to show the chip was still working," he said, his hand pressed against his temple.

Giles glared. "You could've been faking."

"Yes. And now I'm enjoying my nice, fake migraine. Berk."

Giles tensed, moving towards Spike but stopping when Joyce grabbed his shoulder. "Rupert, can I speak to you a moment. Alone?"

Giles glanced between Spike and Joyce. "Yes," he said with a sigh, following her back into the bedroom.

"I think we should just let them be."

"What!" Giles stared at her in disbelief. "Do you realize what just happened? A vampire sank his fangs into your daughter's neck and drank her blood. How can you just dismiss that?"

"I'm not dismissing it, I just… I think it's something I'd rather not stick my nose in."

"And when Buffy's dead—or worse, turned—then what?"

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Rupert, really. For one thing, even if Spike did want to hurt Buffy he couldn't."

"He bit her! That's hurting her, Joyce. That punch proved nothing."

"Buffy said the bite didn't hurt her. Being her mother, I really don't want to think about what it did do, but that isn't the issue. I've seen him with her. I've seen him fight to protect her, risking his own life in the processes. I'll be honest. I really don't understand souls or demons or any of that, but I know the look of someone in love—and that's the look Spike has every time he sees Buffy. She's safe with him, Rupert. I can feel it. And if I want to try to ignore what my daughter and her vampire boyfriend are doing behind close doors, please, just let me. For the sake of my sanity."

"I just don't want to end up saying 'I told you so.'"

"I know. I don't want that either, but I also don't see that happening." She ran her thumb over the spot on his cheek where Spike had hit him, noticing that it hadn't bruised. "Let's just go back out and enjoy the rest of Christmas."

Giles sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to convince either one of the Summers women that he was right about Spike. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was having a harder and harder time convincing himself. He'd seen Spike fight by Buffy's side, effectively making everything Giles had ever thought he knew about vampires blow up in his face.

Although when he thought about it, wasn't that just Spike in a nutshell? Giles had never seen the vampire play by any of the rules. Why would he start now?

"Yes, well, I believe I can do that."

Joyce kissed him softly. "Thank you."

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on the couch with her head on Spike's shoulder and his arm around her, blissfully ignoring the fact that her mother and Giles were in much the same position on the other side of the sofa. She smiled at Spike's quiet toleration of Mickey's Christmas Carol despite his muttered comment of "and they say I'm evil" when she'd suggested it.

Just because she didn't hate him anymore didn't mean she had to pass up every opportunity that came her way to annoy him.

Spike pressed an almost absent-minded kiss into her hair, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as he did, and Buffy smiled, managing to move even closer to him. Despite his cool body, his touch sent a warmth through her, giving her a sense of peace and comfort. Right then, in that moment, she felt like she could belong there, in this man's arms.

Yes, Buffy decided with a smile, this had definitely been a good Christmas.

*** *** ***

That's the end, folks. Hope you enjoyed it.

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