Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm not writing this for profit or personal gain. Why am I writing this you ask? I…well…um… That's a good question. I'll go with "to stave off the insanity." "Hang" is by Matchbox 20.

Rating: NC-17 (It's Spike's fault again. He just won't keep his clothes on, even in AU's…)

Summary: After the death of her first love, Buffy Summers swore to never give her heart to another. But with the addition of an unwelcome houseguest into her life, Buffy begins to realize she may have to rethink that vow… (Spuffy; All-human AU)

Spoilers: It's one of those insidious all-human fics, so none, I guess. I'll probably use a few lines from some episodes here and there, but nothing that would give away major plot points for those of you who still haven't managed to see the whole series a year after it ended…

Author's Note: Okay, technically in this story, Spike and Buffy are step-siblings. However, they never lived together as children, and prior to the main part of this fic, they'd only met once (and that's in the prologue.) Basically, they're step-siblings in name only. Still, if that's enough to bother you, don't read this and then harass me about it. I know it's a potentially creepy subject, hence this nifty little disclaimer. If you didn't read this, get two pages into the fic, and think "Ew! Her mom is married to his dad! I hate this fic and want to burn it and then give the author a stern talking to," well, it's your own dang fault, and I'll delete your email gleefully. If the sorta almost family issue doesn't bother you, then by all means, read on.

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the bestest best thing in the world. (Well, almost, anyway.) Give me lots of it, and I will be a happy and productive author. Also, I love it when people want to archive my work, but I like to be asked first. Please e-mail me any archiving requests before posting my fics. Thanks! Email: addie_logan@yahoo.com

Shameless Website Plug: Like this story? Dying to read more of my work? Or maybe you think it sucks, and want to laugh at my other crappy writing. Either way, check out my website: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan

Been Here Too Few Years

By: Addie Logan

*** *** ***

She grabs her magazinesShe packs her things and she goesShe leaves the pictures hanging on the wall, she burns allHer notes and she knows, she's been here too few yearsTo feel this old He smokes his cigarette, he stays outside 'till it's goneIf anybody ever had a heart, he wouldn't be aloneHe knows, she's been here too few years, to be gone And we always say, it would be good to go away, somedayBut if there's nothing there to make things changeIf it's the same for you I'll just hang The trouble understand, is she got reasons he don'tFunny how he couldn't see at all, 'til she grabbed up her coatAnd she goes, she's been here too few years to take it all in strideBut still it's much too long, to let hurt go (you let her go)And we always say, it would be good to go away, somedayBut if there's nothing there to make things changeIf it's the same for you I'll just hangThe same for youI'll always hangWell I always say, it would be good to go awayBut if things don't work out like we thinkAnd there's nothing there to ease this acheBut if there's nothing there to make things changeIf it's the same for you, I'll just hang
 

*** *** ***

Prologue: The Wedding

Buffy Summers was surprised at how excited she was on the morning of her mother's second wedding. When Joyce Summers had first begun dating again after the divorce, Buffy hadn't been happy. It hadn't helped that the first man Joyce had brought home was less than stable and threatened Buffy while playing mini golf of all things.

But try as she might, Buffy had never been able to truly dislike Rupert Giles. In the past year since he'd come into her life, Buffy had already begun to regard the middle-aged librarian as the fatherly role model she'd never really had before. Besides, he'd put a spark of happiness back in Joyce's eyes, and that was one thing that Buffy would never begrudge her mother.

Buffy's ten year old sister Dawn, however, was another story.

"But I like it just the three of us!" Dawn whined as she sat on Buffy's bed, letting the elder Summers sister brush her long, brown hair. "My friend Janice has a step-dad, and she says he's a total jerk."

Buffy held back from saying that if she had to live with Janice, she probably wouldn't be all that cheery either. "But Giles is cool," Buffy said. "In a tweed-wearing high school librarian sort of way. Besides, Mom loves him."

"This is all your fault you know," Dawn accused. "If you hadn't gotten in trouble and had to serve detention, Mom never would've met him, and our lives could've kept going on the way they were."

Buffy through back to that day almost a year ago, when Joyce had come to the Sunnydale High School library to pick her daughter up from detention. Joyce's anger with Buffy had quickly been pushed to the side as she and Giles had begun a two-hour conversation that ended in a dinner invitation. "Personally, I'm glad I got caught trying to skip class," Buffy said. "You can be negative all you want, but I think we're going to make a great family." Buffy hadn't realized how much she'd missed the feeling of unity from having a mother and a father until Giles had come into her life and reminded her what she'd been missing.

Dawn decided she wasn't going to sway Buffy to her side. "Speaking of family, isn't Giles's son supposed to be getting here today?"

"Yeah. Giles is picking him up from the airport at noon."

"The mysterious William," Dawn said with a smirk. "I wonder what he'll be like. You think he'll be another member of the Tweed Squad?"

"I don't think so," Buffy replied. To be honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to meet William. Most of what she'd heard about him had been spoken in hushed tones when Giles and Joyce thought that Buffy couldn't hear them. She knew that, while he'd once been rather introverted, he'd become more rebellious as of late, choosing to remain behind in London—supposedly living with a woman his father didn't approve of—instead of accompanying Giles when he made the move to California.

Giles had stated several times that he wouldn't be surprised if William refused to come at all, despite his attempt to extend the olive branch to his only child and make him his best man. Buffy wished he would just stay in England.  She had high hopes for familial bliss, and wild step-brothers could only ruin that.

"Maybe he'll defy all odds and actually be cool," Dawn said.

"Maybe." Buffy patted Dawn's head and set down the brush. "There. Tangle-free. Try to keep it that way at least until it's time to fix it for the wedding. We don't want everyone thinking Mom makes you live out in the woods or something."

Dawn rolled her eyes in classic irritated little sister style. "It was not that bad, Buffy."

"Tell that to the person that didn't just spend twenty minutes detangling your hair."

"Whatever. It was more like fifteen."

"Still too long. Come on, I told Mom we'd make her breakfast."

"Hope she likes cereal," Dawn muttered.

"Hey! I can totally make breakfast."

"Says the girl who seems to think eggs are supposed to be black and crispy."

"I've been practicing, and I think I've discovered and learned from my mistakes."

"Famous last words," Dawn replied as she followed Buffy out of the bedroom.

*** *** ***

William "Spike" Giles grabbed his bag from the trunk of his father's old Citron. They'd barely said two words to each other on the drive to the airport, and Spike was already regretting coming. He almost hadn't, especially when it had been made clear to him that his girlfriend, Drusilla, was not welcome. But Spike had been too curious to see the woman his father had replaced his dead mother with not to show.

Spike started to follow his father into the house, but stopped when he looked up into a second-story window and caught a glimpse of a girl dancing. She wore a shimmery, light blue top that clung to her curves perfectly. Her long, blonde hair framed her face, and she moved with the grace and self-confidence of someone who didn't know she had an audience. The vision of her enthralled him, and for a moment, Spike forgot all about Drusilla. All that existed for him in that moment was the golden goddess he had the privilege of watching. She was radiant, glowing.

Effulgent…

"William, are you coming in, or are you going to spend the entire visit standing out on the lawn?"

Spike blinked, his father's irritated voice breaking the spell he'd been under. "Sorry, Rupes. Just admiring your new place."

Giles frowned at his son's disrespectful nickname for him. "Right. Well, come inside. Joyce is at the salon having her hair and make-up done, and I need to get you settled so I can leave before she returns. Bloody tradition and all. Dawn and Buffy are here though, if you would like to meet them."

Spike rolled his eyes. Buffy… He couldn't believe his father was marrying a woman who would name her child Buffy. "Fine, I'll meet the little chits."

"William…" Giles said in warning.

"Fine. Let me meet your wonderful wife-to-be's wonderful daughters."

Spike followed Giles into the house, getting a quick glance at the living room as Giles called Buffy and Dawn downstairs. Spike sucked in a breath as the woman he'd watched dancing descended the stairs. She was even more beautiful up close than she'd been through the window. If her mother was anything like her, maybe Spike could understand why his father had decided to remarry. Maybe.

Buffy looked up, feeling a rush of shock at the sight of Giles's son. His clothes were all black, adorned with safety pins, and his short, spiked hair was bleached to white. His deep, blue eyes were rimmed in dark black. He was gorgeous. He was dangerous. How he could be the son of the proper librarian who was marrying her mother was beyond her.

Buffy almost stumbled down the stairs as Dawn ran past her. The younger Summers girl stopped short at the last step, gaping at Spike. "Whoa. You look totally different than in your picture. No puffy brown hair or geek glasses."

"Da, are you still showing people those horrid pictures of me? Bloody hell, do you want everyone to think I'm just a chip off the old pathetic git block?"

"Well, I certainly don't want people to know my son insists on dressing like a street thug and calling himself some ridiculous name. What is it again, Snake?" Giles snapped.

"It's Spike, and you know it," Spike said through clenched teeth.

Buffy decided right then and there that she didn't like the blond punk that was standing in her foyer. Giles was one of the nicest people she knew, and she hated the thought of anyone being rude to him, especially his own son. What was William's problem? Didn't he know how lucky he was to have a father who wasn't scum?

The dreamy look in Dawn's eyes told Buffy that her sister didn't share her sentiments.

"William," Giles said pointedly, "These are Joyce's daughters—Buffy and Dawn." Giles gestured to each girl as he said her name. "Girls, this is my son, William." Again, Giles made sure to add emphasis to his son's given name.

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow as he learned that the older one was Buffy. He thought for sure she'd be Dawn. After all, her golden hair did remind him of sunrise… He pushed that last thought away. It didn't matter. He had no intention of getting to know anyone in the Summers family. "Nice to meet you," Spike said, sure to make his sarcasm evident.

"My thoughts exactly," Buffy replied with a saccharine smile.

Dawn seemed oblivious to Spike's attempts to be rude. "Do you want me to show him where he'll be staying?" she asked Giles.

"Yes, that would probably be for the best right now," Giles said, grateful for a way to break the tension. "William, you'll be staying in Dawn's room, while Dawn will be with Buffy. Joyce and I will leave for our honeymoon after the reception, but Joyce's mother will be here tonight, as she is staying with the girls while we will be gone."

"Doesn't matter," Spike said with a shrug. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning anyway."

Giles nodded. "I suspected as much."

Dawn grasped Spike's hand, forgetting her previous decision to hate her new step-brother. "Come on, I'll show you my room."

Spike let her pull him behind her, finding he didn't have the heart to continue being rude to her.

"It's smaller than Buffy's room, but it's better," Dawn said as she opened her bedroom door. "Her room is totally lame. It has boy band posters all over the place."

Spike put his bag on top of Dawn's bed. "Well, then, I guess I was lucky in getting your room. Nothing scares me more than those dancing gits and the nancy boy hair gel they like so much."

Dawn giggled. "You know, as much as I totally hate that my mom is marrying your dad, I think I'm glad about you. You seem cool, and I've always wanted a big brother. Having a big sister sucks. Buffy is such a brat."

"Thanks, nibblet. You seem like you'll make a pretty cool little sis yourself."

Dawn smiled brightly at Spike, wishing more than anything that he was staying with them instead of going back to England. Maybe if he was around, she'd finally feel like something other than a freak in her own family.

*** *** ***

Buffy glared at the rumpled tuxedo-clad man leaning against the island in her kitchen. Despite Joyce's insistence that Spike's less-than-pleasant behavior hadn't even registered on her radar, Buffy was convinced that he'd ruined her mother's happy day.

Buffy strode angrily into the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. "Do you realize you are like the most self-centered, arrogant jerk ever?"

Spike coughed. "Excuse me?"

"How dare you be such an ass at my mother's wedding? She worked hard to make this day perfect, and you had to ruin it!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Betty."

"It's Buffy," Buffy snapped. Spike was surprised at how menacing the petite blonde could sound, but didn't let it show.

"Yeah, like that's any better. Buffy." He snorted. "Makes you sound like a porn star."

"Oh yeah, and 'Spike' is so very classy."

Spike forced himself to ignore how attractive she was when she was angry. "Look, you stupid little bint, I really don't care about you or your mum, so why don't you just sod off?"

Buffy glared at him with indignation. "This is my kitchen. If anyone is going to 'sod off,' it's going to be you."

Spike would've laughed if he wasn't so mad. He gave her his most infuriating smirk. "I was here first."

"Too bad. Get out."

"Make me, Betty."

Spike and Buffy glared at each other, neither daring to be the first to move.

Dawn walked into the kitchen, unaware of the tension between her sister and new step-brother. "Hey, Spike. I know you have to get up early to catch your plane and stuff, but, um, do you want to watch a movie or something?"

Spike gave Buffy two more seconds worth of good glaring before turning to Dawn. "Sure, bit. Let's go find something to watch."

Buffy rolled her eyes and stepped back, letting Spike walk by. After he and Dawn were gone, she went back to her room, secure in her knowledge that William Giles would get on a plane back to London the next morning, and she would never have to see him again.

*** *** ***

Leave a review and let me know if you want more of this one.

Chapter 1:

Five Years Later…



Buffy stared out the window of her tiny New York apartment, taking in the breathtaking view of a dumpster and the brick wall of the next building over. She sighed wearily at the sound of the pounding bass that was coming from next door, long since resigning herself to the fact that no amount of complaining or beating on the walls would ever make it stop.

The phone rang, and Buffy took it into her tiny bedroom, hoping the extra wall would allow her to hear whoever was on the other line. "Hello."

"Buffy! Honey, I'm so glad I caught you at home! It seems like you're never there."

Buffy cringed at the sound of her mother's voice, wishing she'd just let the answering machine pick up. "That's what happens when you're working your way through college, Mom."

Joyce sighed. "I wish you would just…"

"You didn't call to try to convince me to come home again," Buffy snapped. "What do you want?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Buffy could imagine the look on her mother's face as she told herself that all the books said she had to learn to take Buffy's desire for independence in stride, and eventually her daughter would realize just how much she needed her mother in her life. "You're right, Buffy. I did call for a favor. Sweetheart, I know you're not going to want to do this, but…"

"No."

"Buffy, you haven't even heard what I'm going to ask yet."

"I don't care. Whatever you want, the answer is no."

"It's really more a favor for Rupert than for me."

Buffy frowned. It was a sneaky tactic on her mother's part, knowing that Buffy would much sooner do something for her step-father than she would for Joyce. "What is it?" Buffy asked through gritted teeth.

"As you know, Rupert's son, William, has been staying with us for the past couple of months…"

"Yeah, what about it?" Buffy had been surprised when the man who had all but disappeared following her mother's wedding had asked to live with his father for a while. Apparently, he was an "aspiring musician" these days, and had come to California to "check out the L.A. scene."

"Well, L.A. isn't working out for him, and he wants to come to New York for a while. You know how hard it can be to get settled in a new place, and…"

"What do you want me to do, spend quality time with him when he gets here?"

"No."

"Scout out a place for him to live?"

"Not exactly. Actually, I'd like for you to…"

Buffy anticipated what her mother was planning to say next. "No. Wait, on second thought, make that a hell no. Not now, not ever, not even if saying yes was the only way to prevent the coming of the Apocalypse. No."

"Buffy, please be sensible about this. It would only be for a little while, until William found a job and a place of his own."

"No! God, I have enough stress in my life without having to put up with him, too."

"I told Rupert he should've been the one to call you. You're so unreasonable when it comes to me."

"Unreasonable? After what you did, I don't think anything I do is exactly 'unreasonable.'"

"Buffy, that was not my fault."

"You keep telling yourself that," Buffy replied coldly. "I know differently."

"We are not going to discuss that anymore," Joyce snapped. "I'm asking you to stop being self-centered long enough to help out your family."

Buffy's only response was to hang up. She wished she'd been on something other than a cordless phone. A slam would've felt so much more satisfying.

The phone began ringing again, and this time Buffy did let the answering machine pick up.

"Buffy, it's Giles."

Buffy sighed, and pushed the talk button, the machine shutting off as she did. "Hey, Giles. Mom's pulling out the big guns, huh?"

Giles laughed lightly. "She seems to be under the impression that you'll listen to me better than you do her."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason for that."

Unlike his wife, Giles knew there were certain issues it was better not to challenge Buffy on if he expected to get anything out of her. "I know."

"Look, I can try to find an apartment for him, possibly even get him a few leads on a job. My boss owns a couple of other restaurants. I could put in a good word for William if he promises not to embarrass me."

"And I would appreciate any of that, but the problem is that William is, well, rather impatient. When he decides he wants to do something, he does it, often without thinking it through. He says he wants to leave for New York Monday, and he doesn't seem liable to change his mind."

"Monday? That's three days away!"

"I know. And I'm worried about the kind of trouble he'll get into if he's there all alone. Please, Buffy. I know this is a lot to ask, but I'm only doing so because I'm desperate."

Buffy felt her resolve slipping. Giles had been there for her when her world had fallen apart around her. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"William made his decision to move this morning."

"This morning? And he's leaving Monday? Is he insane?"

Giles chuckled. "Quite possibly."

"Great. You want me to have a crazy man as my roommate. Thanks ever so." Buffy paused for a moment, then asked, "Does he still look like a reject from a Billy Idol wannabe contest?"

"Well, um, he…yes."

Buffy sighed. "When's his plane getting in?"

"Late Monday evening. He's taking an early flight, but with layovers and the time difference…"

"Can he take a cab from the airport himself, or do I have to go hold his hand?"

"I'm sure he can manage to find your flat if I give him the address."

"You so owe me, Giles."

"I know," Giles replied, the relief he felt at Buffy's relenting evident in his voice. "I can't thank you enough."

"If he's a total ass, I'm kicking him out."

"I understand."

"I have to go back to work. I'm on my lunch break."

"All right, Buffy. And thank you again."

"Just remind your wife of this when she goes on another one of her rants about what a horrible, selfish person I am."

"Buffy, your mother doesn't think…"

"Don't, Giles," Buffy said, her voice tired. "Just don't."

"Right. I'll call Tuesday to make sure William is settling in."

"Fine. Bye, Giles."

"Good-bye, Buffy."

*** *** ***

"How was your lunch break?"

"Ugh, don't even go there, Willow," Buffy groaned in response to her friend and co-worker as she pulled her ponytail through the back of the black cap she had to wear around the food. "You will not believe the phone call I got."

Willow leaned on the counter. "What happened?"

"My mother called…"

"Already feeling the badness…"

"It gets worse. She called to ask me a favor—a really big, really imposing favor."

"What did she want you to do? I mean, you can't really do much, being all the way on the other side of the country and all."

"You'd think. She wants me to let my step-father's son come stay with me for a while."

"What? You never told me you have a step-brother."

"That's because I don't."

"But your step-father's son…"

"Exactly. That's what he is. See, 'brother' implies some kind of familial relation, and I don't even know this guy. I met him once, five years ago at my mom's wedding, and he was a total asshole then. From what I remember, he was a complete freak, and I never even wanted to see him again, never mind have him as a roommate."

"Maybe he's changed," Willow offered.

"I doubt it. He's been staying with Mom and Giles for a while, so I've heard a little about him. He's trying to make it as a musician, or something like that, and all I can think about is what kind of hell that's going to reek upon my life."

"I lived with a bass player for a while. It wasn't bad."

Buffy cocked an eyebrow. "When did you live with a bass player?"

"Beginning of my freshman year, before I met you. But then he had all these personal problems—completely unrelated to the whole musician thing, I swear—and I, well, figured out I'm kinda gay."

"The things I learn about your wild past, Willow Rosenberg," Buffy said with a smirk.

Willow rolled her eyes. "I'd hardly call my past 'wild.'"

"I don't know… Xander told me about your crayon-breaking days in kindergarten, you rebel, you."

"That was an accident!"

"Excuse me, but I do not see money being made."

Willow and Buffy turned around to face their manager, Anya Jenkins. Anya was a little older than the other two women, and had graduated the year before with a degree in business. "That's because there aren't any customers," Buffy replied.

"There aren't any customers because they can see through the windows that the two of you aren't in your money-making positions." The bell above the door rang, and Anya jumped. "There's a customer now!"

"That's not a customer. That's just Xander. He's bringing back the notes he borrowed from me," Willow said.

"Xander!" Anya exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she ran her hands down her sides, smoothing out her clothes.

"Hey, Wills. Buffster," Xander said, approaching the counter. He looked at the third woman. "Anya, right?"

"Right. I'm Anya. And you're Xander," Anya replied, as if trying to conceal nervousness.

"Um, yeah. That I am."

"So you have my notes?" Willow asked.

"Yep," Xander replied, bringing his backpack around so he could get them. "You system of color coding was really helpful."

"See!" Willow cried triumphantly. "Tara says it's insane. Well, actually, she said 'quirky,' but I know she meant insane. I could tell."

"Well, you can let Tara know that I said your system is very useful," Xander replied, handing the notes over the counter. "Hey, do you think while I'm here I could get a cheese danish?"

"Sure," Buffy replied, going towards the cash register.

"Buffy, don't charge him! He's your friend!" Anya said, getting Xander his danish.

Willow and Buffy exchanged a look. Anya didn't even give free food to employees, never mind their friends.

Anya handed Xander the pastry in a small paper bag, brushing her fingers against his as she did. "Please come back again," she said with a bright smile.

Xander smiled back, taking the bag. "I will."

"Are you taking off now?" Buffy asked him.

"Yeah. I have a class to get to. We still on for tonight?"

"Of course," Willow replied. "Buffy, you can still make it too, right? Don't have to do a lot to get ready for your houseguest?"

"A world of no. I'm going to do anything to make his stay more comfortable. If anything, I'll do what I can to make it more uncomfortable. Want to come by later and help me hide sharp things in the couch?"

"Buffy has a houseguest—a male houseguest?" Xander asked.

"It's just her brother," Willow replied.

"Buffy has a brother?"

Buffy sighed. "No, Buffy does not have a brother. It's my mother's husband's son."

"Wouldn't that be your step-brother?" Anya asked.

"No. He's…he's just the guy that's going to probably be making my life miserable for a while. No big."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Fill me in on this later?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Okay. I'm off, then. Catch you ladies later. And nice to see you again, Anya."

"You, too, Xander." As soon as Xander left, Anya's dreamy smile left her face. "Okay, back to making money now," she commanded before going to the office.

"Did I have a moment of insanity, or did Anya just give something for free?" Willow asked.

"Unless we both had the same hallucination, she did."

"Wow. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"I think she likes him," Buffy said. "Although as clueless as Xander tends to be, she'd probably have to show up to his apartment, take off all her clothes, and explain to him that their bodies interlock before he'd figure it out."

"And then we'd have the privilege of listening to Anya describe her orgasm-giving activities with Xander," Willow replied with a shudder. "That is one thing I do not want to think about."

"Better than her descriptions of the vengeance she inflicts once the orgasms stop," Buffy replied. "That woman can be really scary at times."

"Have you seen that look she gets in her eyes?" Willow asked. "It's downright demonic."

Buffy giggled. "I know that look. She gets it when she thinks the money's been endangered."

"Yep, that's the one." Willow laughed for a moment, then sobered. "Are you going to be okay with this whole mother's-husband's-son as a roommate thing?"

"I think so," Buffy replied. "And if I'm not, you'll help me hide the body, right?"

Willow wrapped her arm around Buffy's shoulder. "Of course. After all, what are friends for?"

*** *** ***

Buffy groaned, the loud banging at her front door pulling her out of a deep sleep. She looked at the clock, wondering who in the world could possibly be bothering her at this hour. Then she remembered.

William…

Buffy pulled herself from the couch where she'd been waiting for him. Even allowing for complications, he should've been there hours ago. It was three a.m., and she had a class in five hours.

Rubbing her eyes, Buffy walked towards the door, grumbling. She looked through the peephole, not sure if she was relieved or not to see that it was her new "roommate." She opened the door, feeling her skin prickle at the positively irritating smirk he was giving her.

"Hello, cutie."

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 2:
 

Spike looked down at the brunette who was currently glaring at him as if he were her least favorite person on the planet. He hid his shock, but the woman he was looking at now barely resembled the one he'd seen five years earlier. Aside from the change in her hair color, the healthy glow her skin had once held had been replaced by an almost sickly pallor.

"Hello, William. There's the couch," Buffy said, gesturing in the general direction of the aforementioned piece of furniture. "Sleep on it. Or just sit if you're not tired. Just don't make any noise. Got it?"

Spike frowned. Her mother had said something about Buffy experiencing some rough times since the wedding, but he wasn't expecting this. Her eyes held no spark, only weariness. She looked—broken. For a moment, Spike almost felt bad to be imposing himself on her like this, but then he remembered he had nowhere else to go.

"Um, yeah, okay. And, um, sorry about being so late. The plane got stuck in Cleveland for a while and…"

"Whatever. I have an early class." Buffy pushed past him, shutting and locking the front door before going back to her bedroom, leaving Spike standing in her small kitchen-slash-living room.

"Well, this should be fun," Spike muttered to himself as he made his way to the couch.

*** *** ***

Buffy walked out of her bedroom the next morning, her houseguest completely forgotten until she walked into the living room to see him sprawled out on her couch in nothing but a pair of ripped jeans. Her barely functionally-awake brain provided her first thought before she could control it. Much to Buffy's dismay, that thought happened to be "Mmm…yummy."

Her subsequent horror that that thought had entered her mind for even a second was like a splash of cold ice water. She scoffed in disgust. He wasn't attractive at all. Scrawny and pale. Who would want to look at that?

She gave him one last, quick glance out of the corner of her eye before going to the bathroom to get ready for school.

*** *** ***

"So is your step-brother here yet?"

Buffy gave Willow a dirty look as they walked together from class. "How many times do I have to tell you—mother's husband's son."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot."

Buffy clutched her books tighter to her chest. "He's here. Got in at some ungodly hour this morning. I already wish he was gone."

"Did he do something?" Willow asked, frowning.

"Yes. He showed up. That was enough to keep from endearing himself to me. I am so not looking forward to going home with him there."

"I've got a solution for that—there's a party tonight that Tara, Xander, and I are all going to. Why don't you tag along?"

"Willow, I've told you a thousand times—I don't do parties. They're too much of a distraction."

Willow nudged her. "Riley Finn will be there."

"And I care about this because…"

"Oh, come on, Buffy—I've seen the way you look at him. Wistful stares across the classroom. And he's totally been looking back."

Buffy tried to push down the blush that threatened to form at her friend's teasing. "No way. I am fully content to be a single Buffy. Besides, I have to work tonight."

"Um, Buff, the bakery isn't open at night."

Buffy paled. "I meant school work! Yes, I have papers—lots of them."

Willow moved in front of Buffy, stopping her before she could try to walk faster. "You took a second job! You said you wouldn't do that again—not after you all but passed out from exhaustion the last time."

Buffy looked down. "I know, but…" She sighed, and said softly, "I had to, Wills. My power was cut off last week. If I didn't…" She felt tears sting her eyes.

Willow softened then, patting Buffy's shoulder, wishing there was more she could do for her friend. Willow had tried helping her out with what little money she could give in the past, but Buffy wouldn't take it. She said she didn't want to feel like the "charity case friend." "Maybe you could convince Snyder to give you a raise at the bakery," she suggested.

"Oh yes. Because that little rat-face man is so big with handing out more money. All he ever does is walk in the door, announce he hates everyone who works for him, and then leave."

"Good point. Buffy, you know if there's anything I can do…"

"I'll be okay. Really. I learned from last time, and I think I can better juggle two jobs and school now."

"If you say so…" Willow replied, obviously weary. "But Buffy, if things start getting as bad as they were before…"

"I know. I'll watch out for myself. I promise."

Willow moved away, letting them both continue walking down the hall. She said nothing, but the doubt in her eyes hadn't gone away.

*** *** ***

Spike looked up from where he was sitting on the couch as Buffy walked in the door. "How was school?"

"Don't talk to me."

"Right then." Spike turned back to the television.

Buffy opened the fridge, took out the milk, frowning as she felt the weight of the carton. She looked inside, confirming her suspicions. "The milk's gone."

"Yeah. I'll buy more when I figure out where the store is."

"You put the empty carton back in the fridge. That's…" Buffy stopped, frowning at the television. "Are you watching a soap opera?"

"Passions. Bloody brilliant show."

"You're a freak. Keep it down. I have to study." She tossed the empty milk carton in the garbage can and walked towards her bedroom, stopping halfway there and turning towards Spike. "And could you please put a shirt on? I really don't want to have to look at your pathetic excuse for a chest." With that, she went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Bitch," Spike muttered to himself, turning up the volume of the television.

*** *** ***

Buffy came home, grateful to find her apartment dark and empty. She would have rather found it also without Spike's things still being here, but she would take what she could get.

He hadn't left her any note telling her where he'd gone or when he'd be back, but she didn't care. As far as Buffy was concerned, whoever had claimed that misery loves company had been wrong. She preferred to be alone and miserable. It made her feel less pathetic if the rest of the world couldn't see how low she'd let herself become.

Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. She'd already eaten tonight anyway, the caterers at her new job with the event staff at a reception hall allowing her to have some of the leftover hors d'oeuvres. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't gone to bed hungry plenty of times before.

She went into the bathroom, stripping out of her uniform. She didn't look in the mirror, tired of the sight of the dark circles under her eyes and the outline of her ribs through her pale skin. She didn't know who it was she was seeing anymore, could barely convince herself that that was indeed her own reflection. She turned on the shower and stepped into the stall, letting the warm water wash over her weary, aching body.

Buffy pressed her hands against the tile wall, willing herself not to cry. She could be strong. She could do this. It didn't matter how hard things were now, they'd be better someday. She'd graduate, get a real job, and finally be able to make ends meet.

Five, ten years from now, none of this would matter.

After her shower, Buffy dried her hair and dressed for bed, looking forward to getting a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow was Saturday, but she had a double shift at the bakery, followed by another reception at her new job. If she could just rest a little, maybe she wouldn't be dead on her feet for that.

Buffy had just drifted off to sleep when it began. Her shelves began to rattle, the beat pounding from next door threatening to make everything on them spill to the floor. She groaned, pushing her pillow against her ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. It didn't work, nor did it cease the vibrations that shook the small apartment.

After close to half an hour of attempting to fall asleep despite the din, she got out of bed, walked next door and knocked. A few moments later, a tall, dark haired man opened the door, smirking down at her. "Can I help you?"

"Percy, I know we go through this all the time, but could you please turn the music down just this once? I'm really tired."

"I don't see how that's my problem."

"It's not really, but I just…"

"Look, I honestly don't care if you're some kind of loser that stays home in bed Friday nights, because I have a life—and right now, I'm having a party. You can't dictate the lives of the people around you."

"I'm not trying to…"

"You need to learn to live with other people, bitch. Get over it, and don't bother me again." Percy slammed the door in her face.

Buffy walked back to her apartment, forcing back tears for the second time that night as she went into her room and sat on the bed. She pulled the chain she wore around her neck from under her night shirt, clutching the Claddagh ring that hung from the end. Now she did cry, the burden of the painful memories she carried with her every day weighing her down further.

She wished as she did everyday that things were different, that fate hadn't been so cruel to her. If she could just have him here now, even simply to comfort her, she knew that everything would be okay.

When Buffy finally fell asleep that night, her hand was still wrapped tightly around the ring.

*** *** ***

Chapter 3:

Buffy stood on a beach, watching as the sun set into the ocean. She could feel the breeze blowing through her golden hair, and she closed her eyes, smiling. Everything was peaceful, as if all the pain she'd known in the past few years had simply melted away.

She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she leaned back, resting against the comforting firmness of his chest. "You're here."

"I'm always here," a voice rumbled in her ear. "I'll always be here. With you."

Buffy turned then, looking into dark, soulful eyes. "Angel…"

Angel smiled sadly, stroking Buffy's cheek. Then, in a flash, he was gone, and Buffy was alone in an alley. She looked around, her heart beating faster as she realized where she was. "No…" she said softly, tears stinging her eyes. "Not here! Anywhere but here, please."

"Buffy!"

Buffy turned sharply at the sound of Angel's voice, watching as the bullet tore through his body. She ran to him as he slumped to the ground, and cradled his head in his lap. "Don't leave me," she begged through tears. "Don't leave me this time, please."

"I have to. You know I have to."

"No! I can't do it anymore. I can't be alone…" Angel's eyes closed, and Buffy held him tightly, mouthing silent pleas as she sobbed.

"This is your fault, you know."

Buffy looked up to see a second Angel standing in front of her, pointing to the dead body that she still held. "I…I didn't mean…"

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be dead. You killed me, Buffy. You have no one to blame for your misery but yourself."

Buffy looked down at the blood covering her hands. "I'm so sorry. I never thought this would happen. I thought…I thought we'd be happy."

"Guess you were wrong."

Buffy sat up in her bed, clutching her sheets to her. She trembled, trying to tell herself it was only a dream.

But it wasn't just a dream. She was alone. Angel was dead—and it was all her fault.

For the second time that night, Buffy cried herself to sleep.

*** *** ***

Buffy was grateful to see Spike was wearing a shirt the next morning. Granted, that was only because he had quite obviously passed out in his clothes, but if it meant she didn't have to see his bare chest, then she really didn't care.

By the time she'd finished getting dressed for work, Spike hadn't moved. Buffy got her keys and started out the door, but stopped when she was hit with a sudden concern. What if he was dead? She knew it was a bit farfetched, but she'd heard stories of people getting drunk, passing out face down, and choking to death. Shouldn't she make sure she didn't have a corpse in her apartment before she went to work?

Dropping her purse and keys on the table, Buffy went over to Spike and knelt beside the couch. She watched him for a moment, trying to decide exactly how to figure out if he was still among the living. His face was turned away from her, and with him lying on his back, she couldn't quite tell if he was breathing or not.

She leaned over him, reaching out tentatively to place her hand under his nose. Suddenly, Spike turned, grabbing her hand as he did and pulling her on to him. Buffy yelped, sprawling out on top of him ungracefully. She tried to push herself up, but Spike had wrapped her arm around her waist, keeping her pinned.

Buffy sighed heavily. Why was he here? Didn't her life suck enough without him in it? She squirmed, attempting to work her way off of Spike. Instead, she managed to dump them both off the couch, landing with her on the floor and Spike on top of her.

It was then that Spike woke, blinking as he noticed their positions. "Buffy? How…"

"I was checking to see if you were dead," Buffy replied with a glare.

"Huh?"

"Get off me," Buffy snapped, trying to push at his chest again.

Spike stood, rubbing his head. "I thought I fell asleep on the couch."

"You did," Buffy replied, standing and brushing herself off.

"That doesn't explain why I woke up on top of you, on the floor," Spike said with a frown.

"I told you—I was checking to see if you were dead."

"Maybe it's just the hangover's fault, but that doesn't make a lot of sense."

Buffy sighed heavily. "You weren't moving, so I came to see if you were breathing, and then somehow we ended up on the floor—okay?"

"Right. Whatever. I just want to go back to sleep."

"Fine. I'm late for work anyway. Bye."

"See you," Spike mumbled, lying back down on the couch.

It wasn't until Buffy was walking away from the apartment building that she thought about what had happened. She remembered the way Spike had felt stretched on top of her, and she blushed. His body was tight and well-muscled, and it had felt even better than it had looked…

Buffy shook her head. Spike's body hadn't looked good at all. Too skinny, she reminded herself. And it hadn't felt nice either. She wasn't attracted to Spike. Not at all. She pushed those thoughts out of her head, concentrating on the long day she was facing instead.

*** *** ***

"You know, you've been wiping off that same section of the counter for five minutes."

Buffy looked up at Willow. "Oh. It's um…really dirty."

"Or maybe you're really out of it. You've been here since the breakfast shift, Buffy. It's a slow day—tell Anya you need to go home. She'll let you. Rat-man Snyder isn't here."

"I can't," Buffy said, still running the wet rag over the counter. "You know I need the money, Wills."

"I know. You just look beat," Willow replied. "Is it because of your second job?"

"No. Percy was at it again with the music last night. And then I had a nightmare. So between the two, it wasn't a big night for sleep."

Willow frowned. "A nightmare? About what?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. "I don't remember," she lied, hoping she could convince Willow enough that she'd drop the subject.

"Nightmares suck," Willow said. "I have this recurring one where I'm about to go on stage, but I didn't even know I was in a play, so I don't know any of my lines." She frowned. "And then I'm chased by this guy carrying a plate of cheese. I don't know what that's all about."

Buffy quirked her eyebrow. "Cheese?" she asked, grateful that the subject had moved away from her own dream.

"Yeah. It's weird. So what are your plans after you get out of here?"

"I'm working the other job tonight," Buffy replied. "Until two."

"Two? In the morning? Geez, with your shift here and then that, you're pulling like a seventeen hour day!"

"I have two hours in between," Buffy replied. "Besides, I have tomorrow off. I can just be lazy Buffy. Well, except for that paper I have to write."

"Buffy, I wo…"

"I know, Willow. You worry. But don't. I can handle myself. All that matters right now is having enough money to stay housed while I'm finishing school."

Willow frowned. She knew there was nothing she could say to convince Buffy that she was pushing herself too hard. The door opened, and Willow looked up as a tall man walked in. She nudged Buffy. "Look, it's Riley," she whispered.

"I can see it's Riley," Buffy replied. "So?"

"So…go take his order," Willow said, gently pushing Buffy towards the register. Buffy sighed, dropping the rag to the counter as she did.

"Can I help you?" Buffy asked.

Riley's hands were shoved in his pockets, and he gave Buffy a boyish grin. "Hi, Buffy."

"Hi, Riley. Order?"

"Yeah, I'll, um, have a…small coffee."

"Just a coffee?"

"Yeah."

"You came all the way over here for a small coffee? I thought you lived on the other side of town."

"I do. You guys just have, um, really good coffee."

"We do?"

Riley sighed. "Okay, so you don't. It's actually fairly awful. But, um, I…I wanted to ask you on a date."

"A date? Me?"

"Yeah," Riley replied. "I know we don't know each other that well, but I want to change that. I…I really like you Buffy."

Buffy let out a deep breath. "Riley, I'm sorry. It's not that I don't like you, because you seem like a really great guy, but I just don't have time for dating right now. My schedule's sort of full."

"Maybe if your schedule clears up?" Riley asked hopefully.

"Maybe—but I can't make you any promises. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Riley said, poorly masking his disappointment. "I'll catch you later, Buffy."

"Guess he really didn't want the coffee," Buffy muttered as the door shut behind Riley.

Willow came over then. "So…what happened?"

"He asked me out."

"That's great!" Willow frowned. "Only you don't have a 'that's great' sort of face. What's wrong?"

"I told him no."

"You told him no! Are you crazy? Riley's been totally crushing on you all year—and I know it's mutual, so don't try to tell otherwise. The best friend always knows."

"It's not that I don't like him. I mean, yeah, he's nice—and definitely a hottie—but, I just… I can't. I have so much to do, and I wouldn't have time to throw a boyfriend into the mix. It wouldn't be fair to Riley."

"This isn't about that Parker guy, is it?"

Buffy blinked. "Parker? Abrahms? Willow, that was like three years ago."

"I know, but I haven't seen you date anyone since, and I thought maybe…"

"A world of no. I mean, yeah, Parker was a dick, but this isn't about him. I just have too much on my plate right now to mess with dating."

"You might be less stressed if you had someone to give you orgasms."

Willow and Buffy both whirled around to see Anya leaning against one of the food preparation counters. "How long have you been standing there?" Willow asked.

"Not long," Anya replied. "But long enough to hear that Buffy is apparently 'too busy' for orgasms. That's no way to live."

"Thanks for the input, Anya," Buffy grumbled.

"I'm only trying to be helpful. Impart my knowledge. Oh, and I wanted to ask about Xander."

Willow blinked. "Xander? What about him?"

"How is he doing? Has he mentioned me?"

"He's fine, and no," Willow replied.

"Oh," Anya frowned. "Well, tell him to come in here more often. I'll give him free food. Men like food." She smiled brightly.

"I'll pass the message on," Willow said.

"Great! Now get back to work." Anya went back towards the office.

Buffy and Willow shared a smile before Buffy went back to wiping off the counters.

*** *** ***

Again, Buffy came home after her second job to an empty yet loud apartment. She glared at the wall before going into her bedroom, collapsing on the bed still in her uniform. She'd told Willow that she was fine, but the truth was, she didn't know how she was going to keep holding on.

She was beyond exhausted, her one comfort being she could get some sleep the next day. But after that? She knew from experience that lack of sleep started weighing down on you, even if you tried to "catch up" by sleeping more when you could.

She toed off her shoes, curling up on top of the blankets. Her eyes drifted shut, and somehow even with the pounding music she managed to fall asleep.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke up the next morning, rubbing her eyes groggily. She frowned as she realized she'd fallen asleep in her clothes, and changed from the rumpled uniform to jeans and a t-shirt. She walked out into the living room, rolling her eyes as she saw Spike passed facedown on the couch again. She wondered if he could be anymore of a loser if he tried.

Buffy started towards the bathroom, stopping when she realized the door was closed. And was that the shower running? Buffy frowned as she heard a female voice begin singing loudly and off-key. Just what she needed—some skank in her bathroom.

Buffy sat at her table, waiting until the door opened and a blonde woman walked out. "And you would be?" Buffy asked.

The woman balled her fists and planted them firmly on her hips. "I could ask the same of you. And what are you doing in my blondie bear's apartment?"

"This is my apartment," Buffy replied through gritted teeth.

The blonde's eyes widened. "Oh! You're not like his wife or something, are you? Cause the last time I got caught by a guy's wife it was sooo not pretty."

"I am not his wife."

"Girlfriend?"

"No!"

"Roommate?"

"Uh, not really."

The blonde looked perplexed. "Then who are you?"

Buffy sighed. "I'm his father's wife's daughter."

The blonde frowned, her brow furrowed. "Wouldn't that make you his sister?" she asked after a moment.

"What! No! That thing is in no way my family," she said, gesturing towards Spike. "Now you—out of my apartment."

"Ugh. Fine. Tell Spikey I'll call him later."

"Whatever. Out."

The blonde grabbed her shoes and purse and stormed out of the apartment, shooting Buffy a murderous look as she did.

Buffy went over to the couch, shaking Spike hard. His eyes were bleary as they opened and looked up at her. "What the bloody hell do you what?"

"Who was that?"

"Who was who?"

"The blonde girl, in my bathroom. Who was she?"

"Oh buggering fuck. I really should learn to drink less." Spike clutched his head as if for emphasis.

"Do you even know her name?"

"Sure I do. Let me think…um…Heather? No, not Heather. Hannah! No, wait not Hannah. Oh, bugger, I know this one."

"You're a pig."

"Harmony!" Spike exclaimed. "It was Harmony. Harmony Kendall. She's a fashion major." He gave Buffy a smug look.

"Oh, I'm so impressed. Could you do me a favor?"

"Maybe. What?"

"Don't bring your sluts back to my apartment. The last thing I need is strange, scantily clad women running around."

"What am I supposed to do then? I can't just give up shagging."

"You could always go back to their apartments."

"I hate doing that."

"Why? Because then they might expect you to remember their names?"

"For starters."

"Again—pig."

"Oink, oink, baby."

"Well, you may not be done with Heather Hannah Harmony. She said she'd call you later."

"I didn't giver her my number! I…oh, hell. I bet Oz did."

"Oz?"

"Bass player I met the other night. The lead singer of his band might be quitting. If so, I could have myself an in."

"An in to what?"

"Uh, a band. That's why I'm here, remember?"

"I thought you were here to sleep on my couch and eat my food."

"Oi! I went shopping yesterday, I'll have you know." Spike crossed his hands over his chest. "Replaced everything I ate."

"Really?"

"Yes. I still had some money left over from before I came here."

"And that's where you've been the past few nights—trying to find a band to play with?" Buffy asked.

"Well, yeah. What did you think I was doing, just going out and getting pissed?"

"Yes." Buffy held up her hands in defense at Spike's look. "Hey, you've been passed out drunk almost every time I've seen you. What was I supposed to think?"

"That's where you meet the bands, pet. In bars."

"How classy." Buffy regarded Spike for a moment. So he was a deadbeat, but maybe he wasn't quite as much of a deadbeat as she had thought he was. "You said there was food?"

"Nothing fancy like. But there's stuff in there. Help yourself."

Buffy gave him a little smile and went into the kitchen. She opened the pantry and took out a can of soup. Spike followed her in, watching as she stood up on tiptoe to get a pot from the cabinet over the stove. Spike frowned as he watched her shirt ride up. He could see her ribcage and her stomach was concave.

"You don't eat much, do you?" he asked.

"I'm not anorexic," Buffy snapped, putting the pot on the stove and dumping in the can of soup.

Spike opened the fridge, taking out mayonnaise and lunchmeat. "I didn't say you were. You're just…really skinny."

"There something wrong with that?" Buffy asked, stirring the soup.

"There is if you're starving."

"I'm not starving. I mean yeah, sometimes I can't exactly afford three square meals a day, but I'm far from starving. And furthermore—mind your own business."

Spike's lips formed a straight line as he worked on fixing sandwiches. She was right—it wasn't his business. If the bint wanted to starve herself, he certainly didn't care. Still, he fixed lunch for her as well.

Buffy sat across from Spike at the table, glancing awkwardly between him and the food. "Thank you for this," she said.

"It's the least I could do," Spike said with a shrug. "I don't have enough quid to pitch in with the rent right now, but I can help with the groceries."

Buffy took a bite of her sandwich and swallowed. "I sort of assumed you'd be mooching."

"Appearances aside, I do have a bit of honor," Spike said, slightly offended. "I'm not a complete and total wanker."

"Not a total wanker. Got it."

"So what's your story anyway?" Spike asked. "Last time I saw you, you were all feisty and blonde. Now you're…not."

"It's none of your business," Buffy replied.

"Some boy done you wrong?"

"I said it was none of your business!" Buffy snapped.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Right. I won't ask again then."

"Good."

They were both silent for the rest of the meal.

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 4:

"Miss Summers, may I speak with you?"

Buffy turned around before walking through the classroom door, going back towards the desk at the front of the room. "Yes, Professor Walsh?"

"I noticed you nodding off in class today."

"I'm sorry," Buffy replied. "I was trying to stay awake, my eyes just kept shutting on their own."

"So my class is boring then?"

"No! It's not that at all! It's just…"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, Miss Summers. I also want to say that I have already glanced at the paper you turned in Monday, and I am severely disappointed. It is not the quality I would expect from someone who has selected psychology as her major."

"I know it wasn't my best, but…"

"Everything you do in here should be your best."

"I realize that, but things have just been really hard lately, and…"

"School should be your top priority. If it's not…well, some people are cut out for college, and some people aren't."

Buffy blinked back tears. "I really am trying…"

"Try a little harder. That will be all, Miss Summers."

Buffy nodded and walked out of the classroom. She felt her eyes burning, as she fought not to cry. She'd heard from some of the other students that Walsh could be a real bitch, but she hadn't expected that. And what if the professor was right?

"Buffy, are you okay?"

Buffy looked up, smiling at Tara for only a moment before the tears came. "No."

Tara hugged her, patting her back. "What happened?"

"I'm not cut out for college," Buffy whimpered.

"Huh?"

Buffy pulled back, wiping at her eyes. "I just had a talk with one of my professors. She said my paper sucked and maybe I wasn't 'cut out' for college."

"Buffy, that is not true," Tara said. "That woman doesn't know what she's talking about."

"She might…"

"No, she doesn't." Tara put her arm around Buffy. "I was about to meet Willow and Xander for coffee. Wanna come?"

Buffy nodded. "I was going to go to the library and catch up on my reading, but I don't think I'm in the right frame of mind right now."

"Well then let's get you all caffined-up." Tara said with a smile.

Buffy smiled back as she walked with Tara down the hall.

*** *** ***

"The bitch actually said that? Man what a…well, bitch," Xander said after Buffy had related her encounter with Professor Walsh to her friends.

"Don't listen to her, Buffy," Willow said, sipping her mocha latte. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. You're a very dedicated student."

"Yeah. Most people who take on as much as you do would probably be insane by now," Xander said. "And you haven't, so you've got sanity going for you at least."

Buffy smirked. "Thanks guys. It's nice to know I have people in my corner."

"You've always got us, Buffy," Tara said. "You don't have to feel like you're alone or anything."

"I know. And I'm grateful for that." She nudged Xander, who was seated beside her. "If it wasn't for you guys I probably would be in a mental institution."

"So how's the roommate situation coming?" Willow asked.

"Not quite as bad as I thought," Buffy said. "Granted, he spends most of the day passed out drunk on the couch and Sunday there was some skanky girl in my bathroom, but he also went grocery shopping, so it's not all of the bad."

"Has he found any other possible places to live yet?" Xander asked.

"No. I don't think he's looking. He's trying to find a band to play with right now."

"Any prospects on that?" Tara asked.

"He thinks so. Some band with a funny name. Wolves Ate My Toddler or something."

"Dingoes Ate My Baby," Willow said softly.

"You know them?" Buffy asked.

"Remember the other day when I said I used to date a bassist?"

"Yeah."

"That's his band."

"Oh."

The table grew silent for a while, and Buffy glanced over at Tara, watching as the woman shifted uncomfortably. "So, anything else interesting going on?" Buffy asked, wanting to change the subject.

"We got a kitten," Willow said, grateful for Buffy's topic switch. "Tara and me. For our apartment." Willow reached out and gave Tara's hand a squeeze.

"Ooh, kittens are cute," Buffy said. "What did you name it?"

"Right now we're calling her Miss Kitty Fantastico," Willow replied.

"That's a mouthful," Xander said.

"We shorten it to Miss Kitty most of the time," Tara said, her hand still gripping Willow's.

"Well, she sounds adorable," Buffy said. "I'll have to come by some time and see her."

"Willow and I were talking about having you guys over for dinner some time," Tara said. "Is there any time coming up that would be good for you, Buffy?"

"I'm off from both jobs next Monday. Would that work?"

"Sounds good to me," Willow said. "How about you, Xander—could you come?"

"Free food? Count me in."

"Great," Willow replied. "Hey, Buffy, maybe you could bring that mother's-husband's-son of yours. I'm sort of curious to meet him."

"Me, too," Xander said. "See what sort of guy this is staying with you, Buffster."

"I'll ask him," Buffy said with a frown. "But he'll probably just say no anyway. We've had all of about five conversations since he moved in, and those weren't even real conversations. Just small talk here and there."

Willow shrugged. "Well, just ask him. If you want to, of course. If he's totally horrible, we'll sic Miss Kitty on him. Granted, we haven't seen how she does against a human yet, but she's vicious when it comes to a ball of yarn."

Buffy chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

*** *** ***

Buffy groaned as she saw Percy walk out of his apartment. He was not high on her list of people she felt like dealing with at the moment. Or ever for that matter.

"Um, hey, Buffy."

"Hello, Percy," Buffy replied. Something was different about him. He was being nice—and was that fear in his eyes?

"I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about the music. I'll be sure to keep it down from now on."

Buffy blinked. "Um, okay, thanks."

"As a matter of fact, I'm getting rid of my subwoofer. So you can tell your roommate that, too. I won't be bothering either one of you. Okay, well, see you." Percy ran back into his apartment, shutting and locking the door.

Buffy went into her own apartment, finding Spike sitting on the couch watching television. "The strangest thing just happened to me," she said, setting her bookbag on the table.

"Oh? What would that be?" Spike asked, looking over at her.

"My neighbor who has been a total asshole since he moved in, just came and not only apologized for his previous behavior, but also said he'd keep his music down from now on. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Oh, yeah. Percy. We had a nice little chat this morning."

"What brought that on?"

"I was hung over. He was loud. I showed him the error of his ways."

"Well, um, thanks."

"Didn't do it for you. I had a bloody migraine, and that shite he calls music was not helping. So how was school?"

Buffy sat beside him on the couch. "Awful. One of my professors lambasted me for not being dedicated enough to college."

"What? You? Bloody hell, all I ever see you do is school and work. You're the most serious person I've ever met. A bit too serious if you ask me."

"Yeah, well, apparently it's not enough for Professor Walsh. I kept nodding off in class today, probably because I've worked until after midnight for the past two days. Oh, and the paper I turned in Monday—crap."

"Are you working tonight?"

"No, thank god. I had to work a shift at the bakery before my first class, so I'm completely wiped."

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

Buffy shrugged. "Two hours. Maybe three."

Spike frowned. "Hey, why don't you go take a bath, soak out some of those kinks from the day, and I'll make us dinner."

"You can cook? You know, more than sandwiches."

"Yes. I'm a man of many talents. Now go, relax."

Despite the fact it felt weird to have Spike doing anything to help her, Buffy didn't want to pass up this opportunity. She gave him a smile before going to take a bath.

*** *** ***

Spike turned when he heard the bathroom door open. Buffy wore an old football jersey, although Spike could tell when she moved that she had a pair of shorts under it. Her hair was freshly dried, and even with the dark circles under her eyes, he thought she was beautiful. "Dinner's almost ready, pet. Have a seat."

Buffy did as he said, and a few minutes later, Spike set a plate of pasta and chicken with a white cream sauce in front of her. "Try it," Spike said. "Tell me what you think."

Buffy tried the pasta, her eyes widening a little as she did. "This is really good," she said after she swallowed. "I mean, no offense, but I sort of figured you'd be the type who'd burn water."

Spike chuckled, fixing himself a plate and sitting down across from her. "It's all right. I give off that sort of a vibe."

"So what, the leather and the metal jewelry is just a front?'

Spike winked. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Buffy blushed a little, twirling her pasta around her fork. "So, how did you manage to learn how to cook at least one thing?"

"I can cook more than this," Spike said. "And I guess from taking care of Dru. Had to make sure she ate."

"Dru?"

"Drusilla. My ex."

"Oh. Right. I think I heard Giles talking about her a few times."

"Probably about how she'd lead me astray, and how it was her fault I ruined my life," Spike said, poking at a bit of chicken. "I half expected him to gloat when I showed up in California. But I don't regret it, you know. Don't regret anything with her, not even the bad. I loved her. Probably still do."

"What happened?"

Spike shrugged. "She's crazy. Literally. Completely bug-shagging crazy. Used to talk to her little porcelain dolls, say they were tellin' her to do things. Got so bad for a while that I had to take care of her almost entirely. She could barely even get from one room in the flat to the other."

"That sounds like, well, like it would've been a lot of work for you."

"I didn't mind it. She was my dark princess. I'd do anything for her." Spike chuckled bitterly. "Guess the joke was on me in the end. She found someone else, decided she didn't need me anymore. Some bloke who played a soddin' reindeer in this Christmas play. When I met him, he had fiberglass antlers stuck to his head. And hooves. Bleedin' hooves. Do you know how humiliating it is to get dumped for a guy with antlers?"

"I can imagine it would be pretty humiliating," Buffy replied.

"But I'm better now. Picking up the pieces of me life. And I certainly don't need her. More pasta?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." Buffy watched Spike for a moment, realizing she was seeing a different side to him. Since she'd met him at her mother's wedding five years ago, she'd thought of him as being callous and self-absorbed, caring about no one but himself. But now, after hearing that he served as caretaker to an insane woman out of love… "Hey, um, my friends Willow and Tara invited me over to their apartment for dinner Monday. Would you like to come?"

"You'd be willing to let me around your friends? I don't know whether to be touched or just think you really hate them."

"Ha ha. I don't hate them. And besides, they want to meet you."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "What, to put a face to the wanker they've heard so much about?"

"I've said good things about you!" Spike looked at her incredulously. "Okay, only a few. But I have said some."

"All right. I'll meet your friends. I guess I have to do something other than sit around getting drunk every night."

"Great," Buffy said with a smile before turning back to her dinner.

*** *** ***

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