Chapter 7

    Joyce continued to watch Buffy from afar as a new level of respect for her daughter washed over her. Buffy was not acting like the "rebellious teenage fugitive in hiding" that Joyce had so often imagined. Neither was she acting like the broken lamb Joyce feared she'd find.  Rather, she was acting in a very adult manner, and it was clearly obvious that this small, close knit town was now her home.

    If only Rupert would realize that. Joyce was jarred from her silent musings to hear Giles questioning the physician that worked with Buffy.  He was apparently sacrificing his bowling time in an effort to make her and Rupert  realize a few basics facts about the lives that Spike and Buffy now led.  Joyce was beyond horrified to hear the hostile tone   that Rupert was using to question the doctor. The Watcher's back was rigid in his seat, and his features were grimly set as he bit out his questions in a clipped manner.

    Joyce had to hand it to Dr. Adler; he was holding his patience and composure rather well.  She listened in growing horror as Rupert began bringing up Spike's past atrocities, embellishing one hundred plus years of the murder and mayhem the vampire had committed,  and watched as the ER doctor's face began to close off. Enough was apparently enough.

    "Rupert." Her voice was short and forceful.

    Giles stopped mid-sentence, and looked at Buffy's mother in a questioning manner. "That is more than enough," Joyce chastised, throwing Dr. Adler an apologetic look.

    "Really Joyce, I think it is only fair that this town is made aware of what exactly it is they have let roam amongst them."  

    "The town has seen what is amongst them, Rupert," Joyce pointed out.

    "Look, I sat here and let you ramble on and do you know why I did that?" Dr Adler cut in. " I did it for Spike and Buffy. We know what Spike is, and while he may not be the first one picked for babysitting duties, the majority of this town trusts him, myself included. As you can see, the town has kept the secret pretty well. There hasn't been a rush of trashy magazines like the National Enquirer storming our town to do a story on the 'Vampire Who Saves Town from Vampire Bikers."  Dr. Adler made sarcastic use of  air quotes as he mentioned the fictitious title, while pinning a harsh look on Giles. "So I suggest you drop the attitude. I can guarantee it will NOT be tolerated here. By anyone."

    With that ultimatum, Dr. Adler pushed himself to his feet, and with one last warning look, strode confidently over to the lanes his team was using.

    "Well, I never..." Giles began to sputter.

    "He's right, Rupert. Knock it off."

    "Really, Joyce, you have NO idea what Spike is capable of, regardless of how much he appears to have restrained himself. His inherent nature is evil, never forget that. He is, and always will be, a demon."

    "Look, you said it yourself, we NEED information from Buffy. But you're doing such a fabulous job of getting her  upset, she's not going to want to talk to either one of us," Joyce felt compelled to point out.

    "I'm just doing what is necessary."

    "Oh, stop sounding like a damn Watcher for a moment, will you? I've had about enough of your organization to last me a lifetime." Joyce pushed herself angrily to her feet.  "Buffy is what is necessary.  That's my little girl, in case you have forgotten.  She's happy here, Rupert."

    "Yes, well, be that as it may, things will change soon enough.  She is the Chosen One, after all."

    Joyce looked at him in growing disbelief. "I can't believe you. All that time, I thought you had her best interest at heart. Do you have ANY idea what this last year has been like for me, Rupert?  How many nightmares I've had. where my little girl is scared and hurt and crying out for me, but I'm not there?  I was so frightened we were going to find her broken, shattered into tiny pieces. Instead, I find her like that." She gestured behind her, where Buffy was laughing at something Rick had apparently said, her arm easily curled around Spike's waist. Spike's face was pressed into her hair in a gesture of fondness, and Joyce felt her throat tighten.

     "I find my little girl happy. And you know what? I feel like I've been given a precious gift. You and your damn Council chased my little girl away a year ago, but it didn't break her.  But what are you doing now? You're trying to finish the job of breaking her, Rupert. And this time, I will NOT stand for it, do you hear me???"  Her nostrils flared in the heat of her self-righteous anger as she stared down at the man who was in league with those who had caused Buffy so much pain. Her anger may be slightly misplaced, but it was well directed at this moment.

     Giles felt his resolve give way, and his body went lax. "I... I'm sorry, Joyce. I don't quite know what to say.  You... you are right. I suppose I have been remiss in looking at this the way I should." His head bowed.  "I believe I've been holding on to some issues of anger and betrayal that haven't been very easy for me to let go." Giles looked around. "The very fact that we are discussing this in a bowling alley is quite deplorable, wouldn't you say?"

    "Well, beggars can't be choosers, I've come to learn." Joyce announced, determined to hang on to her anger. Turning her back on Giles, she strode across the floor in the direction  of where her daughter was now seated.  It pained her to see her daughter tense with apprehension as she noticed her approach, but Joyce managed to  plaster a pleasant smile on her face, nonetheless.

    "Can I sit?"

    Buffy's face relaxed, and a genuine smile emerged. She gestured to the empty chair next to her, and watched with a small amount of trepidation as her mom took a seat.

    "Can I get you another beer, Joyce?" Spike asked in friendly manner, reaching behind him to grab a full pitcher and an empty glass.

    "Thank you, Spike." Joyce took the proffered mug and took a sip, welcoming the bitter brew. "I'd go get my other mug, but to be honest, Rupert is being kind of an ass."

    Spike's snort and derisive "You got that right" took Joyce by surprise.
. 

    "Vampire hearing," he commented when he saw her bewildered look.

    "Ah." Joyce was aware of the numerous stares being sent her way, and wondered what had been said in explanation of their sudden appearance in Windmont.  Spike, however, took care of that.

    Setting his beer aside, he lumbered to his feet and pulled Joyce to hers. "Eh.  Listen up, all you wankers and wallflowers. Got an introduction to make.  We got Buffy's mum with us. This here, is Joyce."

    For the first time in as long as she could remember, Joyce was nervous.  It wasn't just the semi-hostile and curious stares that were now directed solely on her, it was the pending reaction of her daughter that caused a rush of panic to surface.   When she felt Spike's arm hook around her shoulders in a friendly manner, she felt herself relax a fraction, and sent him a look of appreciation.  She was having a hard time remembering that he was supposed to be evil.

    "Now, the first time I met Joyce here, she clocked me but good on me head with the business end of a battle axe." There was a look of pure amusement on his face when he looked down to smile at Joyce.  "I don't know why she got so bothered. I mean, just because I was trying to kill her daughter and all. Been meaning to say thanks for saving the day there, Joyce."

    There was a spattering of laughter at that, but protective as always, their friends were far from convinced, having taken note of Buffy's tension that evening. 

    Buffy got to her feet, rolling her eyes.  "Please.  If she hadn't hit you, I still would have kicked your ass."

    "If you need to keep thinking that way, my little Buff muffin, by all means. Go ahead. Joyce and I know the truth." A wink was sent in Joyce's direction.

    Buffy looked at her mom standing there with Spike's protective arm around her, and a flood of emotion suddenly rushed through her, emotion that she had ignored since her mom's unexpected arrival. "Mom," she choked out, suddenly throwing her arms around her. "You're really here. As in REALLY here."

    Tears began to fall from both the Summers women's cheeks as they clutched each other, leaving Spike to take a step back, with his patented look of disgust present. "Eh. If you're going to do the sniveling girlie thing, take it elsewhere, will ya?  Makes me want to heave."

    Buffy pulled away from her mom and sent Spike a grateful look, knowing he had acted in such a manner to ease the rising emotions, and smooth Joyce's path back into Buffy's life.  He was always pretty insightful.

    Buffy then turned to face her friends, a genuine smile brightening her features. "Guys, this is... my mom!"

    In a matter of moments, Joyce found herself introduced to dozens of people, as the protective attitude of the assembled group faded away and their usual friendly manner took hold.  She was told over and over again how wonderful her daughter was.  Buffy's friend Elaine finally warmed up towards her, and gave her a tight hug, thanking her for giving birth to such an "awesome chica."

    Deciding he had put up with enough feel-good emotions, Spike finally called out, "Eh people, we're here to bowl, remember?"

    Taking the hint, people finally wandered back to their lanes, leaving Joyce alone with Buffy's bowling team, consisting of Spike, Elaine and Rick.

    Spike turned to look at her, a challenging gleam in his eye. "So, Joyce. You bowl?"

    +++++++++

    Multiple attempts to get Giles to join them in bowling had failed. He had been determined to sulk in the bar, his British snobbery shining through, as he looked down his nose at the slightly worn atmosphere of the bowling alley.  Joyce finally gave up trying to deal with his behavior, knowing that the Englishman was doing irreparable damage to his relationship with Buffy, and oddly, not caring very much.

    To her surprise, Joyce found herself enjoying her time at the bowling alley, once she gotten over her initial apprehension.  It was odd being with her daughter in a situation different from her traditional  role as the parent; and Buffy, as the child. . Her daughter had grown up in the time since she had left, and Joyce found herself regretting that she had missed seeing her daughter grow into a mature young woman. She pushed aside that negative thought, determined to make up for lost time. 
 

 . 
 

    Buffy and Joyce's newfound states of contentment fled the moment they arrived at Buffy's home.  The short trip from the bowling alley had been worry-free, having been filled with easy conversation about bowling, their league, and the personal stats of some of their friends, as Joyce felt the pressing urge to learn all she could about this place Buffy now called home. Giles had remained incommunicative, and there had been no attempt made to draw him out on the quick drive.

    After Buffy had stored she and Spike's bowling bags in the hall closet,  Buffy turned to her mother and Giles.  "Um, I need to get the guest rooms ready."

    "I am quite sure there is a serviceable hotel near by. We'll be fine if you could just put us on the proper route." Giles replied primly, ignoring the warning growl from Spike's direction.

    Joyce looked at him with irritation. "I'm staying here, Rupert. It's already been discussed."

    "I believe I should have a say in this matter."

    "Well, maybe if you would have heaved your bloody arse out of the bar, you would have been consulted,"  Spike bit out, storming into the kitchen. He was holding onto his demon with everything he had, the urge to rip into Giles so overwhelming, it was almost painful.  He hadn't felt rage like this in a long time, and was in desperate need of a distraction.

     "Hey Buffy, can I eat these left over cookies?" Spike called out to Buffy, his hand already reaching for the plastic wrap that covered the tub of cookies.

    "Just don't eat them all, save a few for me," Buffy answered, picking up on the agitated tone in Spike's voice. Suddenly, she was exhausted. Looking at Giles, she asked, "So, where are you going to stay?"

TBC...

 
Chapter 8
 

     "Just don't eat them all, ok Spike? Save a few for me," Buffy answered, picking up on the agitated tone in Spike's voice. Suddenly, she was exhausted. Looking at Giles, she asked pointedly, "So, where are you going to stay?"

     Giles simply studied her for a long, silent moment. His eyes reflected disappointment and disillusionment as he regarded her, and he wondered once more what had gotten into his Slayer. How could he have guided her in such misdirection?

     His instincts were telling him that to sleep under the same roof with this notorious vampire would most likely be the last mistake he would ever be alive to make, and he was quite confident that his instincts were correct.

     However, when Giles sent a probing look in Joyce's direction, her opinion on the matter was etched firmly on her face.   There was little doubt that the woman found nothing wrong with sharing lodgings with a demon who was responsible for the murder of thousands.   However, to discover that Joyce had been lulled into a sense of false security in the same fashion as the townspeople had, did not come as much surprise to him.

     Giles sighed heavily. He had almost succumbed to the same fanciful disillusionment as well.   He couldn't quite fault Joyce for being so easily misled. This was her daughter, after all.   Between Spike's impressive acting job, the entire town's apparent tolerance of his true nature, and having a respected medical professional giving the vampire validation... well, one would be hard pressed   to remain a cynic after that. Giles had found himself wavering,   almost allowing himself a small bit of consideration to be given. A slight willingness to offer Spike the... benefit of doubt. A minute leaning in the direction that perhaps his slayer hadn't completely given herself   to a... monster, but someone who was deserving.

     But fortunately he had come to his senses in time.

     Giles was also aware they needed a certain level of cooperation and information from Buffy, so he came to the conclusion it was best to buck up and at least make an effort to make amends.   Even if that meant he was sacrificing his life. . It was a Watcher code of duty, after all.

     Allowing his lips to curl up in a grim mockery of a smile, Giles managed to respond politely, "If it's not too much trouble, your hospitality would be greatly appreciated."

     A loud, rude snort was heard from the kitchen, which Giles chose to ignore.   It didn't escape his notice, however, Buffy's answering grin and giggle.     Apparently, the deplorable manners were rubbing off on her, which came as no surprise to Giles.

     "I'll just go, and get those rooms ready for you," Buffy announced, wanting to escape her Watcher's disapproving eyes. She headed for the stairs, with Joyce following behind to lend assistance, and be further reunited with her daughter.   There were two extra rooms on the second level, both set up to accommodate guests.   Aside from the few times when Rick and Elaine had opted to stay over rather than risk driving home under the influence after a few of their more alcoholic get-togethers, they had been pretty much unused.

     After the two Summers women had disappeared up the stairs, Giles helped himself to a brandy from the picturesque antique sidebar. He took a greedy sip, sighing in appreciation as the familiar burn of the alcohol went to work in his system. The past year had been hell, no doubt of that. Alcohol had been a habitual companion during the long evenings, and Giles saw no point in stopping now.

     Distracted, he turned around with every intentions of waiting on the couch for Buffy's reemergence.   He was tired, and wished nothing more than to go to sleep, but the need to gather the information he needed was pressing.   The Council had been sniffing around and Giles knew it was only a matter of time before they garnered onto the truth.

     Deep in his own commiserations of his unduly hard charge in life, he failed to notice the vampire who had stealthily appeared   behind him, catching him by surprise as Giles turned around.     An instinctive startled jerk of his limbs caused precious brandy to slosh from the rim of the glass held tightly in his hand, and Giles held nothing back while delivering a withering glare to the person responsible of such waste. When he caught sight of the cruel, dangerous look creeping onto Spike's face, his glare turned wary.

     "Well, well.   Guess it's just you and me, eh, Watcher?"   The voice alone sent tendrils of fear through Giles. The promise of evil and pain could be heard in the low, mocking tones.

     Giles took a step back, desperate to put some distance between himself and the maniacal look on Spike's face.     His immediate escape was halted   by the side bar he had just been admiring, causing a flash of fear to strike him.

      "Spike, I really don't think Buffy would be happy if any harm come to me," Giles tried to sound authoritative, but knew his voice carried a hint of fear.

     The cruel grin turned mocking and sinister. "Well, see... that's where I disagree, mate."   Spike heard the telltale pounding of the Watcher's heart, and the familiar delicious smell of fright curled enticingly through the air.   Wanting to add to the man's panic, he allowed his facial bones to shift, and brought his demon forward.

     Giles looked into the savage, mocking yellow eyes of this vampire, and saw his life flash before his eyes. The fact that his suspicions were proven correct in such an ironically fatal manner did not pass him by.   He opened his mouth to call for Buffy, hoping that she would be able to do the right thing in this situation. That she would   choose her life's destiny over her hormones for once, when a set of unyielding fingers were suddenly wrapped around his throat, making speech an impossibility.

     Spike kept an unwavering stare on the man in his grasp, fighting the urge to bury his teeth into the aging flesh, tearing him apart until the blood stopped flowing, and the sanctimonious words would never again be spilled from those pompous lips. Hate didn't even begin to cover what he felt for this man.

     But... he wouldn't.   For Buffy's sake.   Hell, who was he kidding.   For his sake too.     He didn't do that anymore.

     Didn't mean he didn't want to.

     Easing his grip just a fraction, Spike leaned in close.   The Watcher had him in height, but now he just seemed a shriveled shell of his portentous self, his eyes resolute with fear, and oddly, acceptance.

     "Listen up, you git. Only going to say this once. If it was up to me, I'd have killed you the moment you walked through my door." Spike saw the slight spark of anger flare up in the other man's eyes. "Yeah, that's right. MY door.   This is my home. Mine and Buffy's.   The only reason your heart is still beating is because of Buffy, and I'm not about to let you hurt my girl." When he saw disgust and rage light up in Giles eyes, a low warning growl sounded in Spike's throat.

     "Yeah, she's mine, Watcher.   And as I said, I'm not about to let anything, or anyone get in the way of her happiness, understand?"

     A lack of response prompted another growl, and Spike's hand instinctively tightened around the man's throat. The rapid mottling of his face and bulging eyeballs clued Spike in that perhaps he was taking things too far, and he threw Giles away from him in disgust.

     Spike watched impassively as Giles drew greedy painful breaths into oxygen starved lungs, his coloring returning to normal before he turned and resumed his usual uptight posture.

     "You don't deserve her," He bit out in a clipped, slightly hoarse voice.   The words the vampire had just spoken to him had infuriated him, and the worst part was the fact he had been completely at Spike's mercy.   "You are a monster." The words slid out before Giles could contain them, knowing that he was choosing a very unwise time to share them.

     Spike roared and swooped towards Giles, golden eyes blazing with hatred and anger, and the Watcher tensed, preparing himself for the inevitable attack, searching quickly for some sort of weapon.   He had been quite foolish indeed.

     But the attack never commenced. Spike stopped a hairsbreadth away and rose his hand as if to strike.   Giles flinched in preparation, his arm coming up in a defensives gesture.

     Instead of inflicting bodily harm, Spike did something completely baffling.   The hand that rose up contained one of the procured chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen, and Spike took the opportunity to take a big exaggerated bite, letting Giles know without words just HOW much he'd prefer it be something a little more human he was biting.

     Then, with one more parting glare, the vampire turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the front door, pausing briefly to grab a weapon of sorts just off to the side, before stalking through it without a backwards glance.

     Giles was frozen in place. To have averted death by that narrow of a margin was... unnerving.   Snapping himself out of it, Giles half stumbled back to the bar to top his glass off, before finally making his way to the couch.

      Buffy and Joyce found him there ten minutes later; perched on the edge of the cushion, both hands wrapped firmly around the body of the glass tumbler, his face set in a mask of late dawning horror.

     Buffy looked around with growing dread. "Where's Spike?"

     There was no answer from her Watcher. She watched as he merely tipped his glass to his lips and downed its contents in one long, smooth gulp. "Giles."

     When there was no response to that, Buffy put her hands on her hips and said sharply, "Giles, where is Spike?"

     Giles finally looked in her direction, his eyes blinking slowly as if to bring her into focus.   "Er, he went... outside."

     "What did you do?" Buffy accused, her eyes flashing.

     Giles opened his mouth to make a venomous denial, but the words wouldn't come. Instead he just shook his head dumbly. The near death experience had shaken him.

     "Giles, what did you DO?"

     That accusation served to get his attention and he stood up primly, and adopted a look of pure outrage on his face. He didn't seem to realize he was swaying slightly on his feet.

     "I did nothing, Buffy.   We exchanged some words, he almost killed me, he ate a cookie, then he went outside. He took a weapon, however, so perhaps it would be in our best interest to look for him."

     Buffy gave her Watcher a withering look that matched the one that Spike had given him earlier, and ignored him.   Marching to the front door, she wrenched it open.

     "Spike! Get in here!"

     Joyce gave Giles a questioning look, even though she felt like slapping the befuddled look off   his face as well.   On top of everything else, now he was drunk.   There was a muffled shout that slipped in through the partially opened door, but Joyce couldn't decipher the words.

     "No, NOW.   Get in here NOW!" Buffy yelled.

     More muffled shouts followed, and they watched as Buffy rolled her eyes, and shouted back, "Ok, FINE. Finish, then get your undead ass in here. I mean it!"

     She shut the front door, and walked back into the living room, rubbing her chilled arms along the way.

     "What's he doing?" Joyce asked, noting the look of exasperation on her daughter's face.

     Before Buffy could answer, Giles interrupted with, "Perhaps one of us should go make sure he's not,... er... endangering anyone? Spike's mood was a little volatile when he walked out that door.   He could be doing anything right now."

     Giles felt the heat of Buffy's glare, before she turned back to her mother. "He's shoveling," Buffy informed Joyce.

     'Ah yes, so that is what the weapon was', Giles thought fleetingly. Now feeling more confident as his purpose was reestablished, Giles walked to the briefcase he had discarded earlier and procured a stake from it.

     "What the HELL do you think you are going to do with that?" Buffy demanded, knocking the stake easily from his hands.

     "You did not see Spike's state of mind as he passed through that door.   I would once again be remiss if I did not at least protect this town against any fatalities merely because he and I had words," Giles explain in a slightly slurred pompous tone.

     Buffy's indelicate snort was followed by a robust eye roll.   "I told you he was shoveling, Giles. What, did you think he was burying dead bodies, or something?"

     Actually the thought had not crossed his mind, and now sinister scenes began playing out in his head. Bodies stacked up, mass graves, and Spike shoveling away with a demonic smile on his face...

     Apparently, his face must have mirrored some of his thoughts, because Buffy's voice interrupted his musings.

     "The ground is frozen solid, Giles. Bit tough to be burying bodies in the front yard of a residential neighborhood, you know."

     Her sarcasm was not lost on him, and his eyes hardened in response. "Buffy, really. I have no idea what delusions you have let yourself live under this past year, but it is time for it to stop. You are not some teen runaway who found herself joined at the hip with a man who made things easier, you are living with a murderer, Buffy.   The truth is, you have NO idea what a vampire is capable of. Especially this one. I cannot even begin to voice how disappointed in your actions I am finding myself."

     Buffy heard the gasp of outrage from her mother, and brought herself up to her most assured pose, as she coolly stared at the man who had been   her mentor. "To be honest, I could care less if you're disappointed, Giles," she bit out.   "It works two ways, you know."

     Taking a step forward, Buffy roughly grabbed Giles arm and bodily dragged his resisting body in the direction of the front door, ignoring his sputtering.   He winced in pain as the door struck his shoulder when she flung it open, and Giles didn't even want to ponder if that had been intentional or not.

     "You want to know what evilness I am letting him get up to while he is outside, un-chaperoned, with a shovel?" Buffy demanded, shoving him onto the porch. "Well, there he is."

     With a small squint of his eyes, Giles was just able to make out the a flash of white blonde hair shining against the back drop of snow across the street, gradually discerning the black bowling outfit from the nighttime shadows. He could see the glint of the shovel as it moved through the air at a furious pace.   Spike was definitely taking his aggressions out on something, there was no doubt of that.

     "He's..." Giles couldn't even finish the statement.

     "That's right. He's shoveling the neighbor's driveway, doesn't want her to have to do it herself. She's 79 years old, lives alone, and makes Spike come over for dinner once a week when I'm at work." Buffy turned around and headed back inside, Giles following dumbly behind. She closed the door to the cool air trying to seep into the cozy house and exchanged looks with her mom.

     Buffy walked back into the living room, her hands clenched with fury, wanting so very badly to pummel her Watcher.   She had always known he was narrow-minded, but this was ridiculous. And irritating. And he was really pissing her off.

     Giles followed a few steps behind her, walking with an almost shaken look on his face. Spike kept the elderly neighbor's driveway shoveled. It was inconceivable to think that the vampire would   do such a thing. Buffy must make him do it, he concluded, and turned his satisfied eyes to her.

     "And no, I do not make him do it.   He just started doing it all on his own. Said it was the neighborly thing to do," Buffy injected, ruining the foregone conclusion Giles had come up with.

     The front door swung open, and Spike stomped in, his face still set in a furious mask. Buffy hurried over to him, yelping when he laid extra chilled fingers on her flesh.   "Gloves, Spike! You need to wear gloves!!!! I don't care if you are dead, you idiot! Your hands are icicles."

     Both Joyce and Giles watched as his face softened, and the coiled tenseness seemed to leave him, just by being in Buffy's presence.   Their feelings were once again in clear evidence as Buffy rubbed his half frozen hands, kissing them tenderly before smiling up at him.

     It made Joyce want to go smack Buffy's Watcher around herself.   How he could remain so damn dense when it was clear that these were very real emotions being felt here, Joyce didn't know.   One thing she did know for certain; she knew where her loyalties lay.
 

     TBC

    Rated R
 

This chapter is un-beta'd and I'm sure I missed a lot on my brief edit job, so be warned!  This chapter is dedicated to Rae, and the House of Bloodshedbitches.
 

Chapter 9
 

    The remainder of the evening proved to be the most trying that Spike had experienced since he had held the car door open for Buffy that fateful night so long ago. The urge to rip out her Watcher's throat was intense and consuming, but the image of seeing disappointment echoed in Buffy's eyes was much stronger. And that just wouldn't do.

    They had come too far for that.

    So he endured.

    But, he thought with wry satisfaction, he wasn't the only one suffering. Buffy's mum was holding her own with the git, tossing dirty looks whenever his pompous mouth was opened. It was clear that the Watcher was still holding onto misplaced resentment for the role Spike played during the torture suffered at Angelus's hands. The barely veiled and inappropriate  comments tossed out randomly made that perfectly clear.

     Fortunately for Spike, Buffy was able to read him just like he'd always been able to read her, and didn't give into her overwhelming curiosity as to why her Watcher was suddenly intent on finding her.

    "Come on, it's late. Let's go to bed," Buffy suggested  to him in a neutral voice, although her eyes spoke volumes of wicked promise.

    Spike's agitated eyes darkened intensely, his cock jumping to buck against the confines of his jeans, and a low growl left his throat.

    Buffy gulped, it had been a while since she'd seen him like this. This... worked up.  Guess the shoveling didn't quite do the trick like it usually did, a release of a different sort was definately in order here. Buffy found herself unable to look away from his captivating stare.

    "Really Buffy, we have many things to discuss," Giles interrupted impatiently, his displeasure in clear evidence.

    Buffy looked over at her Watcher sharply, her arm whipping around to stop the pounce she knew was inevitable. She allowed her fingers to splay against the hard contours of Spike's muscled chest in an instinctive gesture to keep him from succumbing to his instinctive urges.  Buffy felt like causing some major pain herself, and  could only imagine how Spike felt.

    "Not tonight we're not. Spike and I are going to bed. I'm tired." Buffy's voice was firm and slightly frigid, and even Giles recognized it as a tone that he dared not argue with.

    "Very well then. However, we will be discussing this first thing in the morning," Giles warned.

    Buffy ignored him and went to give her mother a good night hug.  Both Summers women suddenly found themselves with tears in their eyes as they stayed in each other's embrace far longer than intended.

    "Oh god, I missed you," Joyce whispered, mentally slapping herself for once again falling prey to her tears. She had told herself there would be no more hysterics of a sniveling kind, no more regrets, and yet here she was. Clutching her daughter and never wanting to let her go.

    "I missed you too, mom." Buffy's voice was hoarse with the burden of unshed tears. "I'm sorry I stayed away."

    "I know, I understand. I'm sorry too."

    Buffy drew back slightly, a happy smile spread across a face that was now wet with the tears that refused to be kept back.  "New pact. No more with the apologies, ok? New start for both of us."

    Joyce smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically.  "New start. Good idea."

    Buffy began to draw away  when she looked over her shoulder and saw the hungry look that remained on her husband's face.   Shifting nervously under his powerful gaze, she turned back to her mom. "Uh, mom? You might want to stay down here for a bit."

    The look on Joyce's face turned questioning.  Suddenly, her daughter was pulled from her arms roughly and dragged willingly towards the stairs.

    "Night, Joyce," Spike called over his shoulder, as he quickly went up the stairs, Buffy in tow.  It didn't go unnoticed that Giles was ignored, and Joyce turned a baffled look on her face towards her fellow traveler.

    It hit them both at the same time.

    Spike was dragging Buffy upstairs to have sex.

    Joyce inwardly cringed, then remembered Buffy's parting words and crossed the room to help herself to the stack of home improvement magazines she had spotted in the bookshelf. She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head that protested her baby having relations of a sexual nature. Some things were better to be kept ignorant about, and this was definitely one of them.

    A violent shudder wracked Giles at the imagery of what went on behind closed bedroom doors, and his face hardened. It was too much to comprehend. His Slayer having relations with a demon while he was in current residence.  It was a slap in the face of massive proportions. Truly.

     At the first sound of banging that came from the third level, Giles stiffened and prepared himself to march up the stairs.

    "Don't... you... dare..." Joyce hissed, having settled herself  comfortably on the couch.

    Giles whipped around to argue, then saw the look of resolve on Joyce's face. With a pained, heavy sigh, he once again made his way to the side bar and allowed himself a healthy sized refill before joining Joyce on the couch.

    ++++++

    There were so many times when Buffy found herself forgetting that Spike was a vampire, but this was definitely  not one of them. She knew his demon was in full arousal here, and Spike was fighting a bitter battle with his natural instincts.  He  seemed to be doing a remarkable job of controlling things, she had to give him credit.

    God help her, it just made her love him that much more.

    When he kicked the door shut to their bedroom and smashed her unresisting body roughly against the closed door, she reveled in the sensation of being at the complete mercy  of a fully aroused vampire.

    "Thank you for not killing Giles," Buffy whispered huskily, her arms snaking around his neck while she rubbed herself against the hard bulge pressing into her stomach.

    Spike snarled, lowering his face into the delicate curve of her neck. "Don't bring up the sod when I'm about to fuck you good and proper."

    His crude words combined with the feeling of his cool tongue probing her jugular halted any further comments as she tipped her head back and to the side, a low groan sliding from her lips  at the attentive worship.

    The groan was Spike's final undoing, his need to possess her now overwhelming. The musky scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and with the subtle sounds of bones shifting, his demon slid across his face.

    Buffy felt the tongue at her throat turn rough, the smooth planes of his face against her skin becoming distorted and sharp, and a pool of moisture flooded her crotch.  There was no fear, only desire, as she impatiently reached for the buttons of his jeans.  He didn't succumb to his demon often, and Buffy was more than willing to take advantage of it.

    Keeping up a series of harsh, constant growls, Spike batted her hand away and ripped the fly of his jeans open, his cock springing free and more than ready.  His face didn't leave the  haven of her throat when he took his hands from her succulent body to shove his jeans roughly down his slim hips, kicking them impatiently off before reaching for the waistband of Buffy's pants.

    Finding himself suddenly without the patience to remove them, Spike merely ripped them away, ignoring the squeak of protest of the girl in his arms.  The urge to bury himself into her welcoming depths was almost unbearable now, and Spike reached around to grab the firm ripeness of her ass, hauling her up so that her heat was in intimate contact with his hard shaft.

    "Need to be inside you." His rough voice danced across her skin, bringing a new flood of desire rushing through her. God, she loved the way he made her feel, this passion. She never knew she was capable of such desire, and eagerly embraced it.

    "Take my underwear off," Buffy ordered breathlessly, clutching onto Spike's shoulders as he dropped one of her bare thighs to press his fingers against her sopping mound. She arched against the mastery of his talented digits as they stroked her feminine core.  Her heart was beating with all the  subtly of a runaway freight train, and she could feel his fangs grazing the skin at her shoulder where his tongue was worrying the tender skin.

    "Fuck your underwear."  With an impatient sweep, Spike pushed aside the thin layer of cotton and in a single rough stroke, impaled Buffy on his hard, arching cock.

    Buffy's eyes slid shut at the tremendous force of sensation that slammed into her at the bold intrusion of Spike's shaft into her sodden passage. She could feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate his large girth, until he was in her to the hilt.  Without pause, she rose up, slipping herself almost off his erection before slamming her hips downward, burying her own face into the cool, pale column of Spike's throat.

    "Oh god," she cried, as Spike slammed her back against the door, one hand seeking purchase against the door jam to sustain his balance while thrusting  into her.    Buffy brought her legs up to circle his waist, bringing him even more intimately deep inside her, matching each thrust with a downward motion of her own.

    "Fuck, Buffy..." Spike growled, propelling his hips forward, driving her to bang against the door with each forceful movement.

    Wanting to be even deeper within her, Spike wrapped one arm around her back, the other clamped around her ass for support, and  he swiftly pivoted around with the bed as his intended destination.

     However, Spike didn't expect Buffy to clamp her inner muscles suddenly around his cock like an inner, strangling vise, and suddenly all feeling left his legs and he could swear he felt his eyes cross.  He was unable to prevent falling helplessly to the bare floor, bringing Buffy to land atop of him.

    The sudden jarring motion was more than either could take, connecting their bodies in such a way that they both moaned simultaneously. Spike wasted no time in flipping them over quickly, their hips slamming together as they bucked against the other. Spike's growls were fast taking on a  savage and primal note, deep, coarse rumbles from his chest, keeping perfect time with their powerful thrusts.

    Buffy thought she was going to die.  The intense pleasure building up  as Spike moved inside her was almost excruciating.  When she looked up and realized he had not shifted out of game face, she knew exactly what it was that Spike needed from her.

    And she was more than willing to give it.

    With a gesture born of trust and love, Buffy tipped her head to the side, offering her throat to the raging demon above her.

    With a savage snarl, Spike bent his head down and sunk his fangs into the delicate tissue, not using the usual care Buffy had grown accustomed to.

    Her subsequent orgasm almost killed her.

    Well, she thought she was dying anyway, as brilliant colors of light flashed before her eyes, and her body exploded in a wild prism of sensation. She was so gone with multiple waves of pleasure, she didn't even hear the loud roar that sounded practically in her ear.

    Bonelessly, Buffy drifted back to awareness to find Spike  spread out in a boneless heap on top of her spent body, pressing her into the hard floor beneath.

    With limbs that seemed drained of supernatural strength, she pushed weakly at him. "Off," she ordered weakly. "Can't breathe."

    Spike lifted his head up from its warm pillow and flashed a red-tinged smile, his demon having found the fulfillment it craved and had retreated, and it was blue eyes that flashed at her now, his face smug with satisfaction.  With an alarming burst of strength, Spike rolled them over so she lay pillowed against his hard chest, still intimately connected to his body.

    "That better?"

    She nodded.  "You know, next time you could at least kiss me," she pretended to pout. "And taking my clothes off would definitely be of the good. You know, not tearing them off my body."

    Those words were barely out of her mouth before firm lips were crushed against hers, silencing any further words she had planned to say...

    +++++++

    The next morning, Buffy entered the kitchen in a good mood, her body feeling the burden of the previous night's endeavors, but her mind perfectly content and happy.

    "Morning," she greeted, noting her mom was already up and had coffee brewing. A sudden blast of nostalgia hit her.

    When her mom looked over at her with a knowing look, embarrassment flooded every cell of her body.  "Oops," Buffy mumbled. "Uh.. sorry."

    Her mom smiled at her daughter's discomfiture.  She took a moment to study the happy glow that seemed to emanate from Buffy that had been absent the previous evening. Joyce knew exactly what had put that look there, it hadn't been THAT long ago when Hank used to accomplish the same thing.

    Oooh those were the days, Joyce thought fleetingly.

    "Well, let's just say I'm glad you told me to not go upstairs," her mom commented dryly while handing Buffy a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "It was bad enough in the living room."

    A mortified giggle flew out of Buffy's mouth, and when she was finally able to look at her mom, she was happy to notice a teasing glint in her eye.

    "Sorry!" Buffy repeated, taking a slow sip of coffee. "Spike had a bit of uh..., pent up aggression to work out."

    "Ah. Is that what you kids call it these days?"

    Before Buffy was able to register that her mom was teasing her about sex, Giles shuffled into the kitchen, wincing at the bright stream of sunlight pouring through the window.

    With sure, quick movements, Buffy had the blinds drawn, bringing the kitchen into blissful darkness for Giles's hangover.

    Turning to face her Watcher, already feeling the disapproving vibes pouring off of him, she tensed in preparation.  "Good morning Giles," she said carefully.

    "Er, yes. Good morning, Buffy." Giles had been significantly warned the previous evening by Buffy's mother, and didn't fancy incurring that wrath again.

    Joyce handed him a cup of coffee, which he took with distaste and sipped it with great trepidation.  Sniffing the air, he asked, "Do you smell something?"

    Buffy shook her head, going to sit at the kitchen table, keeping a wary eye on her Watcher. She didn't like facing him without Spike by her side, and she didn't know what that said about her now. And surprisingly, she found she didn't really care.

    Looking in her direction, Giles immediately spotted something that made his blood run cold. "Did that bastard bite you last night?" he ground out, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

    The tentative air of acceptance went sour with that remark, and Buffy's face closed off. "Yes, Giles, he did. Several times in fact."

    "Are you insane? I cannot believe this," Giles sputtered, shaking his head back and forth in utter disbelief.

    Joyce opened her mouth to intervene, not liking the subject matter, but disliking the attitude on display far more. However, Buffy clearly was able to take of things by herself.

    "What Spike and I do behind closed bedroom doors is none of your concern, GILES, " Buffy bit out, eyes narrowed and cold.  "I am no longer the Slayer that you can boss around, so you will NOT take that tone of voice with me.  My personal relationship is none of your business."

    "If it has something to do with a vampire, it most assuredly is my business."

    Buffy set her coffee cup on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive pose.  "I will repeat this only once more, than I will not be responsible for my actions. My relationship with Spike is NONE of your business." Buffy threw in an effective glare for good measure, but then her carefully posed censure was ruined when her nose scrunched up in disgust.

    "God, something does smell in here," she admitted. Looking at her mom, she asked, "Did it smell when you came in here?"

    Joyce nodded carefully, glad she didn't have to worry about insulting her daughter's housekeeping skills.

    "Ugh. It smells like something died in here," Buffy commented, the cover of freshly brewed coffee fleeing from the air.

    "Well, and this surprises you?" Giles retorted haughtily.

    Buffy rounded on him. "What? You think the smell has something to do with Spike?"

    "Buffy, I do wish you would wake up, my dear. He is a VAMPIRE. Dead things and vampires go hand in hand. "

    "Something bloody stinks," a voice commented from the entry to the kitchen, and three sets of eyes looked over at the sleepy, rumpled vampire strolling into the kitchen. "Woke me up from a dead kip, it did."

    "Giles thinks you're responsible," Buffy informed him, her eyes roaming appreciatively over his bare, muscular torso.

    A derisive snort was her reply, and she tipped her face up for a good morning kiss, and wasn't disappointed.

    "Was I digging holes for all those dead bodies again?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the Watcher, who stood there with a disapproving look on his face.

    "Yeah, I think so, " Buffy replied back with an easy smile, leaning back against the chest she had been hauled against.

    Joyce was hard pressed to keep her own smile at bay, and she walked towards the sink to pour the dredges of her coffee down the sink.

    "The smell seems to be stronger over here,"  Joyce commented.

    Spike tipped his nose in the air and inhaled, immediately crossing the room towards the stove. He sniffed around, then turned back to Buffy.

    "So... I've been burying dead bodies in the stove, have I?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

    A puzzled look come over Buffy's face as she watched Spike turn around and gather tools from the organized drawer just left of the stove.  They all observed while Spike undid the screws to the grill  covering the fan above the stove, and the moment he removed it, a burst of foulness spread through the room.

    "Oh god!" Buffy cried, holding her nose. "What is that smell?"

    "It's something dead, whatever it is."

    "Are you sure?" Joyce cried, her own face turning pale.

    "Vampire here, Joyce. Trust me, I can smell when something is dead."

    That comment  hung in the air as Spike retrieved a flashlight, Buffy and her mom unconsciously backed away, almost as if they expected something to leap from the stove.  They all watched as Spike slid into game face and shone the light up to inspect the fan and vent above the stove.

    The look of disgust that became plastered  on Spike's game face might have been funny in another situation, one with far less anticipation.  "Now this is bloody disgusting, Buffy."

    "What?" Buffy cried, her stomach rolling.

    Spike ignored the question, his game face sliding away to reveal a pensive look on his handsome face. "What I just can't understand  is how it happened."

    "What?"

    "The sodding fan. We haven't used the thing since we moved in."

    Buffy tried to figure out what he was talking about when a memory of a few days prior flashed into her head.  The scuffling sounds coming from the vents.

    "Wait! I turned it on the other day to scare away the birds that were pecking on the roof."

    Spike sent her a dumbstruck look. "The birds," he echoed derisively.

   Buffy nodded, and Spike rolled his eyes.  "Well congratulations slayer. You managed to take out a whole nest of mice single-handedly."

    "Ewww."

    "Yeah, and it's going to be even grosser when you clean it up."

    Buffy's look of disgust turned to one of outrage. "What? I'm not cleaning it up!"

    "Well, then we can all appreciate the finer aroma of decay for quite some time then." Spike flicked the flashlight off and advanced on Buffy who began backing away with a look of barely veiled panic on her face.

    "You killed them, you clean them up," he informed her, his good mood of the morning having long since deserted him.  Between the stench of decaying  rodents that smelled far worse for him than any of the humans, and seeing the Watcher's glowering face, he was suddenly thrown back into a right rotten mood. "You're the soddin' slayer, for christ's sake, this should be nothing for you."

    "No!" Buffy cried, spinning around and using her excessive strength to blast her  way out of the kitchen.

    The pounding of her frantic feet up the stairs and then the slam of the bedroom left the kitchen bathed in profound silence, as Giles and Joyce watched Spike's face intently to gauge his intentions.

    With a snarl, Spike headed back to the stove, kicking a chair over along the way. Joyce didn't want to admit to being wary, but seeing the thunderous look on Spike's face was making her slightly on edge.

     Spike gathered his supplies for his Search and Retrieve mission before turning back to glare with disgust at the stove. He looked over his shoulder and tossed out,

    "And you people call ME the bloody evil one?"
 

    tbc...

Ok, if you are reading this right now, the second half has not even been read over, and in fact I'm under total duress by my five year old to even get this up at all, but I wanted to before I leave for the evening.

 chapter 10

    Her mom had wasted no time in joining Buffy in safety behind the closed bedroom door, and Buffy was thankful she had just finished smoothing the last of the evidence of the previous night's of passion from the thrashed bed linen. She found her mom wearing the same repulsed look on her face in response to the carnage, and Buffy couldn't help the shiver of disgust that slivered through her.

   Yes, so she could splice a demon open right down the middle, and filet it from head to toe and not suffer a quiver of protest from her iron-clad stomach. But pulverize some little rodents that were stupid enough to move into the piping above her stove? That was bad. No way was she equipped to deal with that one.

    So she and her mom played catch up, while trying not to dwell on the gruesome task being performed  several flights below them. They made sure to keep things light, neither willing to get into the serious agenda quite yet.  Overwhelming feelings of just how much they had both missed during the year struck hard, but both Buffy and her mother were determined to stick to their promise of the night before. No more tears. The time for that was over.

    Fifteen minutes had passed, the lingering stench of what had been unleashed in the kitchen had faded to a tolerable level, and both were just basking in being together again. Curled up against each other on the big antique bed, it was easy to push away any unpleasant thoughts, as Buffy got the scoop on neighbors, her mom's job, and Joyce's life in general.

    It was soon to be interrupted however. 

    "HOLY BLOODY FUCKING HELL!!" It was a roar that reverberated through the walls, and if the neighbors heard, Buffy wouldn't be surprised. Both she and her mother visibly started at the loud sudden yell, looking at each other in confusion before being overcome by  hysterical giggling.

    "Oh my god, what do you think happened?" Buffy managed to gasp.

    Her mom couldn't respond, just shook her dumbly, eyes full of mirth.  Another shout from below them reached their ears.

    "You bints better not be up there laughing, or I'll be coming up there and ripping your throats out."

    Buffy's mom amused look turned fearful, and she looked to her daughter for support.  Buffy rolled her eyes, her laughter dying down.

    "Please. Do you know how often he tells me that? Try at least twice a day. He's not going to hurt you." 

    "What about Rupert?"

    "Spike's not like that anymore."

    "I can see that, but don't you think Mr. Giles has pushed him a bit since we arrived?"  Her mom settled a pointed look upon her daughter.

    A flash of fear shadowed Buffy's face. "You're going to make me go down there, aren't you?"

    Her mom didn't reply, just continued to look at Buffy with an expression that Buffy remembered well. The one that told her that arguing was futile.       

    Allowing a nauseated pout to settle across her full lips, Buffy whined, "Fine, but you're coming with me."

    Not waiting for a response, Buffy flounced over to the door, her hand reaching slowly for the  knob.  With just an inch separating her fingertips from the steel knob, Buffy hesitated, her motions stilled as if by their own accord.

    Her mom's profoundly spoken "Buffy," had her head turning to send a pleading glance in her mother's direction.  "Go."

    "FINE. I'm gooo-ing"

    Joyce couldn't help but smile at her daughter's antics, heartened to realize that some things hadn't changed.  However,  she quickly realized that she had to follow, and her amusement stilled.  Maybe it hadn't been such a hot idea to send Buffy to check up on Rupert. He WAS a big boy. Surely he could handle one civilized vampire?

    Not able to contain the shudder that gripped her, Joyce moved to follow Buffy through the opened bedroom door.

    The stench became stronger the closer they got, the clank of tools and muttered British obscenities the only sounds heard.  Suddenly, a high pitched squealing noise rent the air, followed by shouts of panic from Spike.

    Ignoring her own disgust for the moment, Buffy practically ran the remaining steps that separated her from her husband, not trying to shrug off the tendrils of fear that squeezed her.  Capable, assessing eyes quickly went to work to pinpoint the threat,  scoping the room in a smooth, organized fashion.       

    Then her jaw dropped.

+++

    "Bloody hell, Watcher! Keep the soddin' bag open!!!"

    "I assure you, that is precisely what I am doing."  Tweed jacket off, sleeves rolled up, Giles held the mouth of the black garbage back as wide as it would allow. And as far away from his body as possible. "Would you  just drop the bloody thing in already? I would like to retain some semblance of hearing from this."

    "What does it look I'm trying to do?" Spike growled, his hand wielding a pair of long tipped forceps. He finally accomplished his task, and with a triumphant shout, snatched the now closed bag away from Giles's hands, and threw it to the floor, oblivious to Buffy's presence. 

    Buffy was still trying to wrap her brain about what she had just seen when she saw Spike lift his booted foot over the moving bag on the floor.

    "Hey! What are you doing?"        

    Spike's head shot up to lock eyes with her, and she realized he was in game face. "What's it look like I'm bloody doing? I'm killing the soddin' thing."

    Buffy drew herself up in self righteousness. "No you're not, you're going to take it outside and let it go." 

    "Are you bloody mental?  I'm not letting it go."

    "Yes, you are."

    Buffy watched as Spike and her Watcher exchanged a look of disbelief, then he turned his amber eyes back in her direction. "Buffy, the thing deserves to die. You have no idea."

    Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, her posture shouting that her position was firm.  Spike turned to see if her mother could talk some sense into her, but saw that her body language mirrored her daughter's.

    "This is soddin' ridiculous," Spike grumbled, snatching the bag up and heading towards the front door, once again forgoing a jacket as he stomped out on to the porch, slamming the door behind him.

+++++

    Immediately upon the abrupt departure, Giles once again pinned disappointed eyes upon his Slayer, his mouth a tight disproving line.

    Buffy felt like she was living a Twilight Zone episode. Maybe like the one she barely remembered watching on a Thanksgiving day marathon a long time ago, where the little kid rolled under the bed and straight into an alternate universe. Maybe when she and Spike where embarking on their wild sex-capades of the night before, that somehow happened to her.

    It was mere minutes before Spike came stomping back inside, shaking snow off him as he stalked into the kitchen, still wearing the face of his demon, much to Buffy's surprise. 

    "Geez, Spike. It was just a mouse,"   

    He whirled on her. "It wasn't JUST a mouse, Buffy."

    "Oh my goodness, there wasn't anything... demonic about it, was there?" Joyce asked with concern, coming to stand next to her daughter in a show of support.

    Spike snorted. "Right. No such thing, Joyce." 

    "It er... taunted us." Giles admitted, exchanging a very brief mutual look of understanding with Spike, who nodded his agreement.

    "It TAUNTED you? Like stuck its tongue out and went 'neener neener neener'?"  Buffy's voice was full of skepticism.

    "No, Buffy," Spike replied scornfully.  "It played little shit games with us, is what, when it should have been chopped up into bitty pieces like the rest of his family."

    "Thanks for the visual," Buffy grimaced, realizing that by allowing the mouse to live, she had dealt a serious blow to not only Spike's manhood, but apparently Giles's as well.  She looked over at the two men who were standing there with a shared camaraderie over a renegade mouse, and found a small amount of amusement at the situation.     

    Taking a deep breath, she sucked it in and tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry I made you let it go, baby. Hey, you can go hunt it down, if you want," she said brightly.

    Surprise flickered in the deep recesses of his eyes, and an embarrassed smile graced his face. "Nah, that's ok. Still got his family to take care of.  Want to help the Watcher and me?"

    "No! As in, a world of." Buffy quickly turned tail to head out of the kitchen, her mom right at her heels.

TBC

Ok, this chapter was written pretty quickly and NOT beta'd and only read over once, so probably TONS of mistakes!!

chapter 11

     Buffy played it safe and removed herself from the house in case Spike attempted to guilt her into helping with the morbid cleanup, calling over her shoulder as she ushered her mom out the door that she was going to show her mom the town.  Because it actually might have worked, she DID feel guilty.

    Buffy and her mom had managed to spend several enjoyable hours together, and had just finished having lunch at the diner on 3rd street when Buffy's cell phone rang.

    "Hello?" she answered cautiously, already knowing who was on the other end.

    "You can come home now, Miss. Mouse-slay-teer."

    The teasingly spoken name brought a smile to her lips and Buffy was relieved to note that he sounded slightly amused rather than irritated at her so very obvious defection.

    "Ok. Mom and I were just having lunch, we'll be home in a few." Buffy slapped the phone shut with a quick flick of her wrist and grinned conspiratorially at her mother, relief filling both women that they had been spared the gruesome task.

    A few minutes later, the two Summers women were headed out the heavy glass door, each laden with a stout brown sack. Buffy had wisely purchased  an entire apple pie from the diner rather than the usual piece she usually brought home to Spike, and Joyce belatedly remembered Rupert and the fact he quite possibly had missed lunch.

    Wanting to offer penance, they ordered the daily special to go and were soon on their way home.

    When they stepped through the front door, they did so with much trepidation. There was a lingering smell of decay, but scented candles had been lit and now the smell was battled by the heavy aroma of pumpkin spice. Buffy hung her coat and scarf on the coat rack next to the door and stepped in quietly, the box with the pie held stiffly before her as the peace offering it was.

    "We're home," she called, slightly unnerved by the silence.

    "Know that, you silly bint.  Vampire here, ya know."

    Buffy spun around to catch the amused smirk as Spike stood in the doorway behind them. "God! You scared the crap out of me!"

    Spike snorted derisively. "Some bleedin slayer you are."  He eyed the box in her hands, and one eyebrow lifted towards the ceiling.  "A whole pie, is it? Feeling a wee bit guilty?"

    "No!" Buffy denied heatedly, then softened. "Ok fine, maybe a little."

    "Good." Spike stalked across the room and relieved Buffy of her offering, heading purposefully into the kitchen.

    "Where's Giles?" Buffy called after him, not wanting to follow.

    "I ate him," Spike tossed back. "Tossed his body in the basement along with the others."

    At her mother's horrified gasp, Buffy couldn't help but shake her head. "He didn't eat him, mom."

    Spike's derisive laughter sounded loudly from the kitchen. "He's taking a shower."

    "Ok, I'll just put his lunch.... here then." Buffy took the bag from her mother and set it on the dining room table.  With a casual stroll, Buffy settled herself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, more than content to spend the rest of the day in such a fashion.

    As the afternoon passed however, Buffy's nerves escalated. She knew there was little she could do to avoid the reason her Watcher had been so intent upon finding her, but she was determined to keep the knowledge at bay as long as possible.  Every time Giles would open his mouth, Buffy would point her finger at him and making a shushing gesture, and the pained sighs from the Watcher grew in volume and frequency.

    "Buffy, we must discuss this," Giles finally announced, thoroughly exasperated.

    "Giles, I don't want to know. You know why? The second you tell me, it will be like this entire year never happened and I'm just not willing to let it go. I don't want to be that Slayer anymore."

    Another put upon sigh followed by a  grimace met this current vehement denial, as Buffy maintained her current status on the couch, a stack of magazines beside her.

    Spike had gone upstairs to catch a few more hours of sleep leaving Buffy alone with the onslaught. Finally after a harsh glare from Joyce, Giles finally threw himself into the large leather easy chair after selecting a novel from the extensive selection lining the large antique bookshelves.

    It seemed like the day that had no end to Buffy.

    Relief came with a knock on the door.  After yelling that the door was open, Buffy was ecstatic to see her friend Elaine posing herself dramatically in the now open doorway.

    "Since when do you knock?" Buffy asked with a grin, getting up to embrace her friend.

    "Uh gee... that would be since your mother came to town. And that other one," Elaine replied derisively, looking around the room. Her grin widened as she discovered Giles sitting  in the corner. "Oops." She acknowledged, sounding anything but.

    Elaine slung her jacket off and hung it on top of Buffy's while closing the door. Suddenly, her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Holy crap on a hotdog stick, what is that SMELL?"

    "So not a story I want to go into right now. I'm trying to repress here." Buffy's tone was firm but Elaine caught the shudder of revulsion that struck her normally fearless friend, and allowed herself to be herded over to the couch.

    "Where's Rick?" Buffy asked.

    "Oh, he'll be over later.  He was doing the manly puttering thing in the garage. Mostly I just heard a lot of swearing, so don't think he's doing much of anything." A wicked and familiar gleam entered Elaine's eye as her head swiveled around searchingly. "Speaking of manly...."

    "He's sleeping," Buffy interrupted before Elaine could finish what was so obviously about to commence. She snickered at the crestfallen look on Elaine's face. "Don't worry, His Manliness should be getting up soon."

    "Well... alright then." With that said, Elaine settled back against the couch and looked at Joyce, still pointedly ignoring Giles. "Don't you think Spike is pretty much Manliness Personified, Joyce? I mean... those cheekbones, those eyes.... THAT BODY," Elaine pronounced dramatically, licking her lips in sheer appreciation.

    "Elaine!" Buffy hissed, slightly mortified for once at her friend's blatant appreciation of her husband. She flicked a glance over at her mom who  she discovered only wore a bemused look on her face.  Giles's expression held distaste and slight contempt as he observed Elaine, and a rush of anger slammed through Buffy.   Just when she thought she was all on the Giles-Forgiving train too. Nobody looked down on her friend, dammit!

    "You silly bints talking about me again?" Spike inquired as he strolled nonchalantly into the room.

    Elaine took one look at him before clapping her hands together and tipping her head to the ceiling to offer silent thanks for the delicious sight before her, then quickly commenced with the blatant leering.  "Oh yeah, my personal favorite. We have 'Fresh from the shower Spike'," Elaine revealed, as her eyes widened appreciatively.

    "You should see 'In the Shower Spike'," Buffy replied mischievously , then slapped her hands over mouth.  She shot her mom an embarrassed look, her face turning the color crimson for making such a lewd remark in front of her mother. But then realized her mother's own eyes were riveted on the damp, hard muscled torso in front of them; the pale, smooth skin a harsh contrast to the dark jeans he wore. Having failed to fasten the top button, all eyes of a female persuasion were simultaneously drawn to the hint of what lay directly below the low waistband.

    Elaine turned to Buffy and crossed her arms petulantly in front of her. "You so suck. If you weren't my best friend, I would hate you. You know that, right?"  She looked past Buffy to Joyce, and gestured widely. "See? Your mom totally agrees. If you weren't her daughter, your mom would hate you too. Right, Joyce?"

    At the secretive smile that played across Joyce's face, Elaine countered, "What? Am I wrong here? I don't think so! Oh... you think you're too old for him, is that it Joyce? Please! The guy is practically a historical monument."

    Joyce laughed at Elaine's blatant teasing. Spike snorted in disgust, but it didn't escape anyone's notice that he deliberately stretched his arms over his head in a long, leisurely stretch, causing the corded muscles in his abdomen to ripple in an enticing manner.

    "Show off," Buffy remarked lightly, shaking her head.

    "Wait, do that again," Elaine commanded, "I missed the first part."

    Spike sent her a dirty look.  "Bloody hell, what am I? And where the buggar is your husband at? Need his support here, you know. Don't know how many times I've told the sod not to let you over here unattended, Elaine. You scare the bloody piss out of me."

    Elaine shrugged, completely unaffected. "He's at home, doing manly stuff in the garage. Of course, he'll never be as manly as you, but..." Elaine allowed her voice to trail off in pained acceptance.

    "You getting all this down, Watcher? Should be note worthy, and all. Maybe Elaine could be your secret weapon in the fight against evil; make all Big Bads run screaming in  the opposite direction.  With that effort of civility towards Giles, Spike headed into the kitchen, all eyes following his exit. "Hey Buffy, what are we doing for dinner?" he called back.

    "I don't know, but I'm not stepping foot in that kitchen until my heebie jeebie Factor is at Defcon: Not So Much."

    "Why? What happened?" Elaine questioned, fully alerted to the potential for gossip.

    "I don't want to talk about it." In a manner of dismissal, Buffy picked up the magazine she had been looking through and pretended to become engrossed in its glossy contents, ignoring the uncharacteristic snort from her Watcher.

    Elaine opened her mouth to probe further when a low knock on the door was heard.

    Buffy, glad to have the distraction knowing full well how tenacious her friend could be when she set her mind to something, called out quickly, "Come in."

    Buffy tossed a look of exasperation in Elaine's direction. "Sheesh, what is it with you guys and the sudden all-knocking-ness?"

    Arching her perfectly waxed and groomed eyebrow in response, Elaine commented dryly, "It's a little something called manners, Oh dearest friend of mine."

    "Please. Like that has ever stopped you before," Buffy grumbled before yelling for Rick to come in as she geared up to brave her stinky kitchen. One thing she knew, they were going OUT to dinner. There was no way she was cooking in there tonight. Nooo way.

    When the front door still failed to open, Buffy spun around before reaching the archway that would take her into the kitchen and to Spike.  "Hello! Are you deaf now on top of developing an annoying case of manners? This is the part where you turn the knob and walk in, Rick."

    "I think you need to get Spike back out here to answer the door," Elaine suggested helpfully, not moving from her place on the couch.  Giles muttered to himself once more and got up to prepare a drink at the bar on the other side of the room.

    The front door opened slowly, and a head peeked around. "H-hello?"

    It wasn't Rick.

    Buffy spun around, her eyes widening in shock. "Willow?"

    "Buffy?"  Willow stepped through the open door way, still just the slightest hesitation present in her motions.

    Buffy took a step forward, staring at her friend as a vortex of emotions washed over her. Oh god, it was Willow!! Suddenly finding herself with tears in eyes, Buffy wasted no time in crossing the distance and throwing her arms around the other girl.  Suddenly she was pried from Willow's arms to be ensnared in a more masculine set.

    "Oh my god, Buffy..." Was all Xander was able to get out before finding his voice compromised by the large lump that had formed in his throat.

    "Xander... Oh god, you guys are really here," Buffy commented dumbly as the true reality of her defection seemed to suddenly hit her.  She had missed her friends. She had missed them way more than she had let herself believe. It took seeing them again to bring those suppressed feelings fully to the surface. Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, and Buffy encompassed both of them in a fierce hug.

    Rick chose that moment to arrive, sliding through the open door unnoticed as he looked with curiosity at the bittersweet reunion taking place.

    "What's with the sobbies?" He asked his wife as he joined her by the couch.

    "Buffy's 'friend'," she commented without the slightest bit of jealousy. She knew her place in Buffy's life, and was more than secure with their friendship.

    "Ah."

    A sudden, sharp threatening snarl had everyone jumping, and Xander and Willow spun around, their eyes widening comically.

    "Spike!" Xander yelped, his voice several octaves higher than usual.

    Willow took the moment to study the body language of those around her. Her immediate thought was that Spike had followed them there, figuring they would lead him to Buffy so he could finally kill her.  But that theory didn't mesh with what she was seeing.  There were no looks of alarm, no fear. Not much anyway.

    In fact, Buffy looked... exasperated?  Xander still had his arms around her, and when Buffy attempted to detangle herself, the growls rose in ferocity when Xander refused to let her go.  Eyes flashed yellow, and sharp ridges emerged on the vampire's previously smooth forehead. The tension in the room was palpable.

    The terse silence was broken by the sound of an open palm striking flesh. "Ow! What was that for?" Rick complained, rubbing his injured arm.

    Elaine put her fisted hands on her waist and glared at her husband for the unknown slight. "THAT was for never being all sexy and  posseesive," she revealed haughtily, her eyes once again frozen on the half naked vampire standing by the kitchen. Elaine smirked over at Buffy. "Ok, I've changed my vote. I think I like 'All Possessive Spike' the best," she revealed. "He's yummy."

    Buffy found herself grinning at her friend, especially after hearing Giles's muttered, "Oh, good lord. Does the woman ever stop?"

     "Yeah, he is a bit on the yummy side, isn't her?"  Buffy found herself whole-heartedly agreeing. Just like that, things fell back into place and Buffy was on sure ground again. This is where her life was now, where she belonged.  She managed to finally detangle herself from Xander's confused embrace, and took a step back, her eyes traveling around the room.  Her mom looked pensive,  Giles looked disgusted, Xander and Willow appeared confused, and Spike....?

    She could practically feel his intense gaze burning a hole right through her, his low growls still rumbling.  They sent a shiver right through her, and her body had to agree with Elaine. Possessive Spike was very yummy.

    Buffy smiled at him, her love shining through in one quick quirk of her lips, and Spike relaxed, his game face sliding away as they regarded each other from opposite ends of the room.

    "What in the flying bean burrito with hot sauce is Spike doing here?" Xander asked, his voice dripping with suspicion and distaste.

    Giles sighed heavily. Sometimes he couldn't stand the little twerp, and this was proving to be one of those times, especially when he saw Buffy immediately bristle with anger.
 

TBC...

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