Part I - It

A squeaking ring was heard as Buffy opened the door to the Magic Shop. It had been closed for weeks now and there were no news of Anya since the failed marriage experience.

Buffy ran her finger over the counter. There was about half an inch of dust covering it. She sighed and remembered the days when everything as normal. She pictured Giles dusting the old books, Anya taking her place behind the cash register, Willow peacefully skimming through a book without having to worry about the magic addiction, while Tara sat by her side absentmindedly caressing her lover’s back. Dawn would probably be desperately trying to hide from Xander, the Tickle-Master.

Buffy smiled at the memory. She really missed the past, where everything and everyone was carefree, except for Giles of course.

She tried to move in the shadows, she didn’t want to turn on the lights. These days she took comfort in the dark and tonight was one of the murkiest nights in years, with clouds concealing practically all the faint light emanating from the full moon.  “Perfect night for all the beasties…” Buffy wasn’t able to finish her thoughts as she heard a noise coming from the back door. “Anya…?” she thought as she made her way to where the sound came from. Hidden in the shadows, the slayer saw a dusky figure coming towards her. As it moved between the various cupboards, Buffy struggled to get a good look at it. One thing was for sure: it wasn’t human. Far from it. It was short, couldn’t be more than twenty inches tall, and extremely thin. Its long arms reached for a specific book and Buffy was able to tell that it had only three very long fingers, and slime was dripping from them.

“Great! Why do they always have to be slimy?” she thought to herself as she prepared to confront the demon. She crawled her way toward it and when she thought she was close enough she stood up and shouted:

“Hold it right there, buster!”

The strange creature turned to face the Slayer, as it looked up she saw two large eyes staring at her. Then it gave her a forced smile, revealing its total lack of teeth. Buffy frowned and just stood there two feet away from it. Suddenly it started running away from her. And boy did it run fast. Fortunately, it wasn’t very smart, either that or it had a very bad sense of direction. It seemed to move completely at random, making tight u turns, zigzagging all over the place, hitting everything that was in its way as it frantically searched for a way out.

“Hey, put that book down or Anya is gonna kill me!” Buffy shouted as she tried to get her hands on the damned thing. “Stop moving, you idiot!” yelled.

Suddenly it stopped and stared at her with a very serious face, huge eyes gawking at her in discontentment.

“Me no is idiot.” It squeaked with a high pitched voice.

Buffy saw her opportunity and threw herself at him. Tough it slipped away, she was able to grab the heavy book.

“Give it back!” she cried out at the funny looking creature that still clung to the book as to dear life itself.

“No!” it squealed.

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO, no!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“No times infinity!” it finally added as a silly grin spread over its mouth. “Me win!”

“What are you, 6?” Buffy frowned, still lying on her stomach, her arms reaching upwards as she held onto the book.

It just stared back. It didn’t understand what she had said.

“Give. IT. BACK!” she shouted off the top of her lungs.

“NO!” it squeaked back “Master want it for ritual.”

“Ritual?” Buffy asked. The creature realised it had said too much, letting go of the book to cover his mouth with both hands.

“Oh-oh!”

Buffy stood up and tried to grab it, but it started running again and this time, after a few zigzags, it found the shopping window breaking it as it hit it. Buffy made her way to the window trying not to step on any shattered glass and looked out. In the middle of the street lay the strange creature scratching its wounded head.

“Ouch!”

Buffy reached for the knob of the door to open it, but when she came out of the shop it was gone.

***********************************

“So let me get this straight: last night a slimy, short Kate Moss version of ET tried to steal one of Giles’ books for his master, who wants to perform a ritual?” Xander asked as he finished patching up the big whole left by the broken window.

“That pretty much sums it up, yeah.” Buffy agreed as she sat down next to Willow. “You ok with being here?” she whispered to her best friend.

Willow glanced around, looking at all the books and magic objects: “It’s hard but I’ll manage. I know you need my help and sooner or later I would have to come to the Magic Shop. Plus it’s easier with Tara here.” She finished as she smiled at her former lover who was sitting across the table from her skimming through a book with Dawn looking over shoulder.

“Is-is this it?” Tara asked handing Buffy the large book in her hands.

“Yep, that’s our ET. What is it?”

“It’s a Khind’Ara. It says here that it’s-it’s pretty harmless, not very bright. But it’s not very usual to find him in this dimension… and it’s very big on-on serving other larger, stronger demons in order to survive. Not much more on this Khind’Ara demon.” Tara explained.

“Well, that we already knew. Anything on the book he tried to steal, Willow?" Buffy asked taking her place next to her again.

“Not really. I’m still trying to translate some interesting parts. It's written in Djaklan.” As she saw everyone staring at her, she explained: “It’s a common demon language. Giles taught me a few things.” She paused flipping the pages. “It has a very confusing past tense, but I think I can translate it. I’ll have to take this home and check some things on the net. It’ll take the rest of the day probably.”

“Well, I guess that’s it then. I’ll take a walk around town, check out the usual haunts, try to see if I can get something out of the low lives at Willie’s. Tara, can you go through the latest newspapers and see if anything unusual has happen in the last few days?”

Tara nodded.

“Xander, can you take Dawn home? I don’t want her out while some beastie is trying to perform some obscure ritual.”

“Sure thing, Buffy!”

“No, Buffy!” Dawn protested “Can’t I stay here with Tara and go through the newspapers, please!?!” she begged.

“No. That thing might come back for the book again.”

“What? Little ET? I think I can take him.” Xander said with a bloated chest.

Buffy looked at him and couldn’t help smiling. He looked so silly when he tried to play the strong leading man.

“Please, Buffy! At least lets set up the centre of operations back home so I can help.” Dawn suggested.

Buffy sighed as she pondered the issue.

“Fine! Xander, keep an eye on her. Also, see if you can get something else on our jittery little friend.”

Xander nodded and Dawn sighed in relief.

Part II - Inhuman Heart

Buffy roamed the empty streets for hours and got nothing. Even after squeezing Willie’s throat and threatening to shut down his bar for good, she had absolutely no leads to go on.

As she walked, stake in hand, she decided to give another go at it and headed towards the Sunnydale Cemetery.

Two hours went by and… nothing! She sighed audibly. Just as she was about to turn on her heels and head home she heard a squeaking sound, a sound that had become familiar to her since the night before.

She silently moved in the direction the sound came from and crouched behind a small bush for cover. There it was, moving frenetically in circles while squeezing its hands together.   

“Me no bring book. Master be angry. Me dead. Me no bring book. Master angry. Me dead. Me no…” He went on and on.

Buffy smiled to herself, she had to admit that was probably the cutest little demon she had ever encountered. She didn’t know if she would ever have the heart to slay it if it ever came to that.

“What a cute little demon…” she thought, but as she realised she was actually liking a demon, she scolded herself “Demon equals bad, not cute. Specially one that is probably a minion to an evil ‘ritual performer’. Get it through your thick skull, demons are evil, not cute, not sweet, not sexy, not hot, not… Ok, now I’m not thinking of little ET anymore. Concentrate, Buffy think about slimy, don’t think about…”

“Spike!” she whispered as she noticed the crouching creature next to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here. You always seem to forget that.” He answered. “And why are we whispering?” he continued.

She pointed at the funny looking creature pacing around frantically.

“What’s with the scrawny slimy midget?” Spike asked, unfortunately he forgot to whisper and was heard by the demon. It immediately stopped and looked straight at Buffy’s eyes.

Instinctively she jumped towards it and was able to catch it for a few seconds, but the ooze that covered its skin made it slippery and it managed to escape.

“See what you did? Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut for one second?” Buffy yelled at Spike as the creature disappeared from their sight.

“Hey, no need to shout, Slayer. I’m sure the little bugger isn’t that dangerous.”

Buffy exhaled forcefully, as if trying to get rid of all her anger through her nostrils, and just stared at the vampire.

“You got your hands covered in that things goo.” Spike remarked.

“Really? I didn’t even notice.” She answered, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“You’re in a very healthy mood today, needing a round of kick to Spike to cheer up, is it?” he continued with a trademark smirk.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” She threatened “But I’ve discovered that when dealing with you, the best thing is to just ignore you, so goodbye.” She started walking a way, stumbling a bit.

“You ok, Slayer?” he asked half mocking half concerned.

“I’m fine.” She continued her path, which was getting more and more wobbly.

“You don’t seem to be.” He followed her when he noticed her falter in her stride.

“Ignoring, ignoring, ignuooorin’.” She recited her mantra in a drooling tone.

“Why are you talking like that?” he asked, frowning at her as he walked beside her.

“Ignuoooorin’, ingnuo..ring” she continued, somehow it seemed harder and harder to say that word.

“Slayer?” he finally got enough of it, stopping, grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him. “What’s with you?” concern was now the dominating tone in his voice. Something was seriously wrong with her; she was acting like… like she was drunk. “Are you pissed?”

“Yes, I am. I hate youuuu.” She mumbled her lips barely able to articulate the words.

“Not pissed angry, luv, pissed as in drunk? Did you have a go at the old tequila bottle?”

“I haven’t had a go at anything and I won’t for a loooooong time.” She answered with a pout.

Spike smiled at her little innuendo. She looked so cute when she was drunk.

“Here, I’ll walk ya home, can’t have you stumble your way there, now can I?” he offered.

“No! I don’t need your help, I… I want to get this gunk out of my hands…” and right then and there she started bawling her eyes out.

“Slay-Slayer…” Spike stuttered, “Oh bugger all, she’s not gonna start crying now, is she?” he was completely lost; he never knew what to do when she cried. All of a sudden every move he made seemed out of place, awkward. He reached hesitantly to put a restless strand of her hair back in place behind her ear. “Don-don’t cry. We’ll get you cleaned up in a jiffy.”

“I smell, it smells bad, I’m all slimy and-and” she inhaled sharply as a wave of hiccups assaulted her.

“Settle down, it doesn’t smell at all.” He tried to calm her as he guided her stumbling body towards his crypt.

“And-and…” and yet another attack of the hiccups assaulted her as Spike opened the door to his crypt and made his way to the underground compartment of his home.

“Shh…”

“And it-it’s yucky…” she continued to protest as Spike turned on the faucet and helped her clean her hands, in a very similar way that Dawn had done months before, on the night of Buffy’s come back.

As she watched him carefully tending to her dirty hands, Buffy had an instant flashback of that night. She couldn’t help it and restarted her wailing.

“Wha-what did I do?” he thought out loud.

She tried to answer but the suffocating mixture of sobs and hiccups prevented her from uttering a word.

“Calm down, sit here.” He offered pointing to the edge of his new bed. “Shh, shh, shh.” He mumbled sitting next to her, his arms reaching to caress the small of her back.

“Get away!” Buffy cried out standing up. “Don’t think just because I’m a little depressed and you’re being all sweet, and-and nice and-and gentle and sweet…”

“You said sweet already.” Spike reminded her, a sly smirk back on his lips.

“Whatever! Don’t think that anything’s going to-to” she stuttered as her index finger alternated between pointing at him and at herself. “You know…”

“No, I don’t know.”

“This thing” the finger still dancing between them “is NOT going to happen!” she tried to turn around and leave but a sudden loss of balance made her fall flat on her behind. “Ouch!”

“You ok?” Spike was on his feet and crouching next to her in a heartbeat.

“I’m fine!” she spat as she struggled to get up.

Spike tried to help but soon all there was was a mush of limbs. Buffy’s arms were flying around, attempting to hold onto anything but the annoying vampire kneeling next to her, Spike’s hands were trying to grab her in order to help her up and the Slayer’s legs were kicking up at everything, specially Spike.

“I don’t need your help, I can get up on my own.” She said as she struggled to stand.

She finally seemed to be standing up but alas, once more, gravity won over and as she held onto Spike for support, he too came tumbling down right on top of her.

“Hey, watch it Slayer, don’t damage the crown jewels.” Spike protested as one of Buffy’s legs came too close to his groin.

“Ha! I don’t think you can call those semi-precious stones… Hick! Let alone the crown jewels.” Buffy mocked between hiccups.

“Well, that didn’t seem to be your opinion a few weeks ago when…” Spike’s voice trailed off as their proximity dawned on both of them.

They laid there for a few seconds, just staring at each other. Buffy’s hiccups subsiding and being replaced a rapid breathing. The feel of her body under his, her breath on his face, her eyes on him just made his brain switch to autopilot. Slowly, as if to give her time to back away, he let his face fall closer to hers until his lips brushed over her.

Buffy felt the oh! so familiar felling of butterflies in her stomach and a cold tingling going from her mouth directly to the warm and moist stop between her thighs. She parted her lips, inviting him in and he did.

He captured her upper lip, nipping it lightly and drawing it into his mouth. Buffy moaned in pleasure and inadvertently pushed her hips against his, feeling a familiar pressure on her stomach.

As the kiss grew in intensity, hands came into play. As Buffy rested hers on his waist, Spike’s framed her blushing face.

He broke the kiss and gazed at her intensely. All Buffy could do was stare back at him, her chest raising and falling at a frightening pace.

“God, Buffy I’ve missed you so much!” Spike confessed with an ephemeral breath. His eyes were wide and conveyed such truth to his faltering voice.

The moment was perfect in every aspect. The room seemed to fade away along with all the qualms, doubts and uncertainties of a troubling world. In that peaceful emptiness there was no vampire, no slayer, just two spirits linked together by something greater than either of them.

Yet, the instant was broken by the screeching sound of a door opening.

“Spike, you here?” a familiar male voice was heard. It was Xander.

Buffy’s body went into autopilot. As the Slayer took over her actions, she pushed Spike off her and spat out:

“Don’t EVER come close to me EVER again.” And she turned on her heels heading upstairs.

Spike just lay there on the floor. His eyes welled up with aching tears which threatened to course down his pale cheeks at any moment. But, as he had learned a long time ago, he pushed them back and swallowed hard. And with clenched teeth he replaced the hurt and humiliation with anger and hate. He stood up abruptly and followed the object of his hated affection to the upper floor of his crypt.

“Buffester! Thank God I found you!” Xander announced, but seeing Spike he added: “What are you doing her Buffy?”

Buffy exhaled sharply more annoyed than embarrassed by his question:

“I found skinny ET, tried to catch him, got slime on my hands and came here to clean up. What’s up?”

“Well, Willow found out something big and important. Seems the world’s ending again.” He said matter-of-factly.

Buffy started heading towards the door when she noticed Spike was following. She was about to say something but Xander was quicker and hissed:

“Where do YOU think you’re going? We don’t need you.”

Spike just stared, he expected Buffy to say something in his defence, but she just stood there, in silence.

“Fine, I’ll just stay here and watch telly. Don’t come crying to me when you’re at the sharp end of a demon’s enchanted sword.” Spike snarled back, obviously referring to the night the scoobies got trapped in the Summer’s residence.

Xander had no smart comeback for that one. He actually felt a bit guilty as he remembered all the times the vampire had helped out during the summer that Buffy was… gone. He had actually become one of them, but the Slayer’s return changed everything, all of a sudden it was mandatory to hate him again. He didn’t really understand why, but that just seemed to be the rule.

Without another word, Buffy and Xander stepped out and headed for the Magic Shop.

***********************************

“You’re gonna have to run that by me again Willow. What do you mean inhuman heart?” Buffy asked confused.

“That’s what it says. I’m almost positive.” Willow answered looking at her notes once more. “From what I can gather, ET’s master wants to summon the power of the first Slayer and use her as his warrior. For that he needs” she scrambled through the notepad and quoted: “an inhuman heart which has – and this I haven’t translated properly yet, but I think it means - “have” or “possess” - Slayer blood.”

Everyone looked at each other.

“So all we need to do is get our hands on this inhuman heart and the bad guy will come to us.” Xander announced with a witty grin.

“But first we have to figure out who owns this heart.” Tara pointed out.

“No need. I already know who it is.” Buffy said matter-of-factly as she made her way out of the Magic Shop.

Part III - Moving In

The familiar sound of a door being kicked open woke Spike from his dream. He wasn’t used to it anymore. It had been weeks since she had stormed into his crypt. He realised just how much he missed it.

“What do you want Slayer?” he asked without even bothering to turn to look at her.

“You.” She said.

Spike was startled by the response, and for a few fleeting moments he thought his one prayer had been answered. But as he turned around he saw the cold and lifeless look in her eyes and knew that, once more, his request to a higher being had been denied.

“What, need old Spike’s help, do ya?” he asked with a bitter tone.

“Nop, just you. You’re coming with me.” She continued, indifference still graced her steely features.

“Explain.” As he noticed her “so do not care about what happens to you, but unfortunately I need to be here” look, he decided to play it her way and assumed the same tone of apathy.

“You have something the bad guy wants. I have you, I have the bad guy.”

“You don’t have me Slayer, not anymore.” Spike spat out.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Was that hurt in her eyes? No, it couldn’t be. She had made it very clear that he meant nothing to her, he was just… convenient.

She stared at him, for a second the hard mask of indifference fell.

“Someone wants to summon the First Slayer and that someone needs your heart to do it.” She sighed.

“Huh?”

“Willow translated a passage on a book that an inhuman heart which had tasted the Slayer’s blood was needed to summon the spirit of the First Slayer.” She explained.

“I’m sticking with huh.” Spike repeated with a frown.

“Look, I don’t understand it either. I just know that you can’t be left here.”

“Wha? Afraid something might happen to me?” Spike grinned, taking a few steps forward until he stood right in front of her.

“No… no…” she was caught off guard by his proximity, taking a few steps back.

“Afraid someone might hurt me?” he continued closing the distance between them until she was backed against a wall.

“No…” the feel of the cold stone on her back broke the thrall he had her under and she was able to push him away. “I don’t care what happens to you, all I want is to avoid the comeback of the First Slayer. I had a run in with her a couple of years ago and I don’t wish to repeat it so soon.” She hissed moving as far away from him as she could.

Spike sighed and turned around to face her once more. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose:

“What’s your plan, Slayer?”

“You stay with me until this bad guy comes for you.” She stated nonchalantly.

“And what if this guy takes his time? What are you gonna do? Move in?” he asked with an annoying grin plastered on his lips.

“No. You move into my place.” She tried to sound casual about it, but deep inside her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. She calmed herself down, trying very hard not to stutter or have her speech falter, and continued: “We don’t have any spare rooms; you can sleep on the couch.”

“Thanks for the tempting offer, but I’d prefer to stay here.” He stated as he took a pack of cigarettes from his jeans’ back pocket.

“You’re coming with me and…” she moved towards him and grabbed the cigarette, which was now hanging from his mouth, crushed it in her hand and threw it to the floor. “…there will be no smoking in the house.”

 “And what makes you think I’ll come with you?” he asked taking another cigarette from his pack.

Once more silence fell around them. She looked at him as he lit the cigarette and after a few moments of gazing at each other she replied:

“Because I’m asking you to.”

He looked at her. She knew him all too well. He would do anything she asked of him. Pressing his lips together, he nodded taking out the cigarette, throwing it to the floor and putting it out with his right foot.

*********************************************

“Buffy? Where have you been?” Willow asked as she saw Buffy opening the front door. “And what is Spike doing here?”

“He’s the one with the inhuman heart.” She answered going into the kitchen, Willow, Dawn and Spike followed her.

Everyone looked at her inquisitively.

“The book spoke of an inhuman heart which has had the blood of a Slayer. Spike here is a demon and has drained two Slayers dry. I figure he’s the one they are talking about.” Buffy explained.

“Ah! Wow, you figured that out in seconds back at the Magic Shop; quick thinking Buffy!” Willow congratulated.

“That’s me, quick thinking girl!” Buffy quipped shrugging as she helped herself to a glass of milk.

“So why is he here?” Dawn asked.

“He’s going to stay here until we find out more about little ET and his master.”

“Cool!” Dawn replied with a wide smile. Spike smiled back at her.

“Uh! Talking about finding out stuff. There is something you should know about the Khind’Ara. Their slime is kinda toxic. Makes you sort of drunk and hypersensitive.” Willow explained.

“Now you tell me.” Buffy said between clenched teeth.

Spike was the only one that heard it and smirked at her.

**************************************

“There! This should make it more comfy.” Willow said as she finished turning the living room couch into Spike’s new bed.

“Don’t worry Red; I’ve slept in worst places than a couch.” Spike tried to reassure her.

“This is so cool.” Dawn exclaimed as she entered the room carrying three or four DVD’s under her arm. “We have Moulin Rouge, Ever After, Playing by heart…”

“Don’t you have anything less estrogen oriented?” Spike joked as he sat down.

“…and Deep Throat? Huh?” Dawn frowned as she looked at the cover of the DVD.

Spike immediately jumped off the sofa and snatched the DVD from the girl’s hands.

“Moulin Rouge will do just fine!”

“Spike, when I told you to pack, I meant to get some clothes, not get your kinky toys.” Buffy spat out, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall.

“Wha? It’s a classic.” He protested.

“And you young lady, it’s a school night, you can watch the movie tomorrow.” Buffy continued ignoring the vampires comment.

“Oh! Come on Buffy! It’s just so cool having Spike over. It’s like a slumber party.” Dawn argued.

“This is not a slumber party, Dawn.” Buffy disagreed. “And Spike is not one of you’re girlfriends, he’s a vampire.”

“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying. But he’s different, his chipped.” Dawn continued.

“He is…”

Buffy was cut off by Spike’s protest:

“Hey! Do you mind? I’m in the room. You do realise that.”

“Go to bed Dawn.”

The teenager was about to retort but Buffy order:

“Bed. Now. And not another word.”

Dawn had no choice. With a sharp sigh she started up the stairs. Sensing the tension in the room Willow quickly followed her.

“That was a little harsh.” Spike said when they where left alone.

“Maybe, but I’m the one who takes care of her. I know what’s best for her.” She snarled, turning around towards the stairs.

“Tell yourself that long enough you might actually believe it.” Spike uttered sprawling on the couch.

“And what does that mean?” Buffy asked turning to face him.

“You don’t even know what’s good for yourself, let alone a fifteen year old. You live your life worrying about what other people think. Your every action is guided by what you think other people think is the best for you.” Spike argued with both hands behind his neck.

“I do what I think is best for me.”

“Do you, really? Then why does doing what is best for you hurt so much?” he asked. The smugness was gone from his voice and was replaced by a sincere worry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lied.

Her answer brought rage to Spike’s eyes, in an instant he was in front of her, backing her up against the wall.

“You want to fool yourself? Fine, that’s your problem, but don’t lie to me.” He snapped.

Buffy’s mind raced, telling her she had to push him away, but her body failed her. All she could do was stare at him, eyes welling up with tears.

The sight of her watery eyes calmed Spike and he continued with a softer tone.

“Why does everything have to be so bloody hard with you?” he asked as his hand came to rest on the nape of her neck. “Just tell me that. Why?”

They stared at each other in silence. Spike’s voice was barely a whisper as he closed the distance between their mouths:

“Why? Why do you worry so much about what other people want? Why can’t you just do what you…” his lips brushed over hers “…want?” He brought his mouth over hers but this time for a deeper kiss.

She closed her eyes and savoured the kiss as if it was the last. God, she missed the taste of him, the feel of his chest against hers, the…

Crack! The sound of footsteps on the top floor brought her back to reality.  

“No. I do what I want.” She whispered, breaking the kiss and stepping away from him, the tears threatened to overflow. Silently she continued backing away from him, never breaking eye contact.

Spike felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut and the pain was spreading straight to his throat, as he stood there watching her go.

*************************************

Buffy couldn’t stop tossing and turning in her bed. It was the third time that night she had woken up from the same dream. Sitting up between her sheets, cradling a pillow between her strong hands she recalled the gruesome details. Her face was bathed in blue moonlight as small beads of sweat ran down the sides of her checks.

“Stupid dream!” She thought as flashes of Spike’s tortured body laying motionless on a ritual tomb assaulted her. A hooded figure buried its claws in vampire’s ivory chest. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, whishing away the images of Spike’s heart being dug out and his body turning to dust.

She laid back in bed, willing herself to sleep. But it was helpless; she had to go check on him.

************************

The wooden stairs screeched beneath her bare feet as she made her way to the living room. She squinted hard, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness around her.

As the couch came into view her heart jumped. It was empty and the sheets were carelessly left on the floor. She desperately scanned the room for the missing vampire. A strange noise coming from the kitchen broke her moment of panic. Immediately the Slayer in her took over. She hid behind the wall that separated the hall from the living room, silently waiting for the intruder. As a tall figure walked into the room, Buffy lunged at it, both tumbling to the floor from the impact. They wrestled for a few instants, but having the element of surprise she easily overpowered him and ended up on top, straddling the stranger’s waist and pinning its arms over its head.

“Where. Is. He?” Her tone was sharp and threatening. As each word came out of her mouth she tightened the grasp around his wrists.

“Bloody hell, woman!” a familiar voice came from her opponent, who lay helpless under her. “What did I do now?”

“Spike?” Buffy asked.

Automatically she loosened her hold on him, but her arms remained resting over his wrists.

“Who else would it be?” he spat out annoyed. “Have you lost your marbles for good this time?”

“What are you doing up?” she tried to act casually as their compromising position dawned on her but, instead of standing up, she remained hovering over him. She missed the feel of him under her too much.

“A bloke can’t even get a sweet tooth in the middle of the night without getting attacked.”

“I thought someone had broken in and taken you with them. And…” her voice trailed off as she didn’t know how to say the words without revealing her foolish worries over his well being.

As he stared at her, he noticed a strange look in her eyes. Was that concern?

“…and…” she repeated.

“Bloody hell, Buffy, just say it. Tell me you were worried about me.” Spike wished, but as the words formed in his mind he saw the change in her face. That change he had long become used to. The sudden cold indifference in her eyes told him the moment was lost.

In a flash she was on her feet and the poisonous words coming from her mouth hurled towards him:

“And I really don’t need to be worrying about the First Slayer coming to hunt me down. Once was enough.”

A dangerous melting pot of anger and hurt boiled in Spike’s chest as he stood up.

“Right, we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” he snapped, walking towards the sofa and throwing himself on it.

“You just stay right here and don’t go anywhere. I don’t want to be… bothered in the middle of my beauty sleep.” She spat out as she turned on her heels and started up the stairs.

“Beauty sleep, that’s something you need… a lot!” he hissed in a low voice.

Even though she was half way up the stairs, her Slayer senses easily picked up that last remark. She didn’t know why, but it brought a sudden bruising weight to her chest. “Does he think I’m ugly?” she thought as she cuddled herself between her sheets.

Part IV - When Morning Comes

Morning came early the next day. Buffy felt as if she had just fallen a sleep when she felt someone knocking at her door. She squinted as the soft morning sun brushed over her milky skin.

“Who is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse and low.

“It’s Willow.” The young Wicca answered.

Seconds latter Buffy saw the small red head peeking from behind the partially open door.

“It’s around 8h30. I gotta get to campus, see if I can catch a few classes.” She explained. “I’m dropping Dawn off at school. Thought I’d wake you, I know you’ve got a shift at the Doublemeat at 9.”

“Thanks Willow, but I called them last night and I got to change to the night shift again. You know, with the whole Spikesitting and all…” she sighed audibly, getting out of bed and putting on her robe.

“Ok! Well, I’m off then.” Willow smiled and hopped down the stairs as Buffy followed her. “Dawn, come on!” the redhead shouted towards the kitchen as she opened the door to the house.

Soon after Buffy saw her young sister coming out of the kitchen with half a tuna sandwich clenched between her teeth, struggling to get her backpack on. Spike soon followed her with a brown paper bag in hand.

“Now, I made you another spike-special for lunch, don’t forget to drink your milk.” He ordered with a strange fatherly concern in his voice.

“Yes, Mommy!” Dawn joked taking the bag from his hands and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Noticing her sister standing at the top of the stairs she shouted as she walked out of the house: “Hi, Buffy! Bye, Buffy!”

The Slayer made her way downstairs and stood there staring at the now closed door.

“Ouch! Beauty sleep doesn’t have much effect on Slayers, does it?” Spike lied. He was still hurt from last night’s argument; he felt the urge to at least annoy her.

“Shut up, Spike!” she snapped making her way up the stairs again.

“PMS is it?” he shouted after her.

“SHUT UP!” she yelled back. Not bothering to turn to face him she jogged to the bathroom and locked herself there.

After about an hour latter she came back down, finding Spike staring into the refrigerator.

“I’m hungry, you don’t have blood here.” He said matter-of-factly.

“When I go to the Doublemeat we’ll stop by the butchers.” Buffy proposed.

“When’s that?” he asked still gazing at the fridge, its door wide open.

“You know, that ruins the fridge. Close the door.” She protested.

“I’m hungry.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” She spoke as she pushed the door closed and moved so her body was between the refrigerator and him.

She stared at him with wide innocent eyes. “Beauty sleep doesn’t work on Slayer, does it? Well, let’s see what good old Maybeline, D&B and a touch of Laura Biagiotti can do for me.” She thought as she gave him her best “I’m an innocent little schoolgirl completely oblivious to just how yummy I’m right now” look. 

Spike caught his breath to prevent a gasp from escaping his partially open lips. “God woman, do you wanna kill me?” he pondered as he contemplated her.

Her hair framed her milky face. He could tell she had makeup on, but it was very discreet one. Her lips had a pale shade of brown, which matched the earth colours over her eyes. There was no sight of the glossy and femme fatale look she used to put on. As his gaze drifted south, he saw she was wearing one of those little summer dresses with small, light yellow flowers scattered over a beige background. The soft cotton hovered just above her knees and over her left shoulder one of the straps that held it into place threatened to slide off. Spike felt tempted to slip it back in place but he resisted the urge. But the piece de résistance was her scent. It was a perfect mixture between her own aroma and a new fragrance. What was that? He couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He made a mental note to sneak into her room later and find out which new perfume she was wearing.

“Spike, you’re staring.” Buffy quipped innocently. “Guess I haven’t lost my touch after all. They always go for the shy schoolgirl.”

Spike immediately snapped out of his gawking bubble.

“No. I’m just trying to figure out where that stench is coming from. Is that you?” Spike said casually as he walked towards the living room, leaving behind a very stunned Slayer picking up her jaw from the kitchen floor.

“What do you mean stench?” she asked when she recovered from the ego blow and followed him.

“That weird fruit salad smell.” He continued sprawled on the sofa and reaching for the TV remote control.

“Shows what you know. This is the new perfume by Lara Biagiotti.” She spat as her arms folded over her chest and she tapped her foot on the floor.

“Well, it reeks, luv!” he seemed more interested in watching a stupid hair shampoo commercial than have this conversation with her.

Buffy sighed audibly as she walked out of the living room and went back upstairs. Immediately, when she was out of sight, Spike let out a long awaited gasp as he reached for his jeans and undid the first three buttons. A moan of relief escaped his lips as the pressure in his groin was considerably reduced.

“I know little guy, but we can’t let her know she’s got us by the short hairs.” He lightly padded his painfully engorged member and turned his attention back to the TV. Flipping through the channels he stopped when he heard Buffy’s approaching voice:

“You know, you’re an idiot? I don’t why I even bother…” she halted when she entered the room. All she saw was Spike quickly reaching for a pillow and nervously covering his lap with it. She looked back at the TV set and immediately recognized Sharon Stone’s long legs crossing and uncrossing in front of a bunch of hormone driven police officers.

Spike’s eyes followed her gaze and then came back to look at her. As the situation dawned on both of them the vampire stuttered as he tried to explain the controversial position he had been caught in.

“No, no, this… this is not what you’re thinking.” He stammered, his eyes nervously drifting from Buffy to the TV and back to her again.

“Like Hell it isn’t!” she yelled as she took the wooden stake from her back pocket.

“What are you doing, Slayer?” Spike shouted out of despair as he stumbled off the couch, the pillow still on his lap, his jeans threatening to slide down to his knees.

Buffy didn’t say anything. Anger blinded her as she chased him around the sofa. She stumbled on the coffee table and that gave Spike just enough time to button up his jeans.

“Buffy think about this for a second.” Spike pleaded. She was extremely pissed.

“No thinking. Staking, now!” she hissed between clenched teeth and lunged at him but missed by an inch.

“Buffy, think about the First Slayer, you can’t kill me.”

“I am thinking about the First Slayer. I dust you and there’s no more “inhuman heart” for any ritual, no more problem.”

The chase spread to the other compartments of the household, as Spike leaped his way up the stairs. After two shattered vases, one broken door and a broken chair they ended up in Buffy’s room.

“Luv, you don’t want to do this.”

“Oh yes I do. And don’t call me that.” She hissed as she cornered him between a scorching sunray and the wall. Spike had no choice, if he couldn’t reason with her, he’d have to make her see that the motive she had to stake him was incredibly stupid.

“Look, even if I was whacking off downstairs that’s no reason to stake me.” He started. Then a grin spread over his lips as he realised the right thing to say to distract her from her goal. “You jealous?”

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, her stake resting on his chest.

“Me, jealous?” she laughed forcibly, backing away from him and stashing her stake back in her pocket. “Of a forty year old woman on TV, I don’t think so.”

“So you’re just not jealous cause you don’t think she’s hot, but if she was you would be?”

“Get this through you’re thick skull: I. Will. Never. Be jealous of any woman when it comes to you.” She explained with a growing pleasure as she saw the hurt in his eyes.

“Right. Got it.” He tried to sound cool and calm but failed miserably at it.

He made his way downstairs and she followed him a bit worried about having hurt his feelings.

“Where are you going?” she asked haughtily.

“None of your business, Slayer.” He hissed as he reached for his blanket on the kitchen chair.

“You can’t go out.” She commanded as she put her body between him and the door.

“And why is that? Afraid I turn to dust?” he asked angrily, but deep inside he hoped she’d say yes.

“No! They might catch…” the nightmare she had had the night before flashed in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and gathered all her strength to sound as nonchalant about what she was going to say “and I’d have a very pissed First Slayer in my hands.”

He hissed as he tried to push her out of his way.

“Don’t make me tie you up.” She warned him. He made a move to leave once more and she had no choice but to punch him.

He looked at her in disbelief. She could see the hurt in his eyes and that made her throat tighten so hard she found it hard to breathe.

“Fine, have it your way.” He snapped, walking back to the living room and taking his place on the couch.