No sooner than had they stepped into the living room, Angel whipped on the two and put a hand to his head. "What the hell is going on here?!" he asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. Was it so hard to just call him and tell him what was going on every now and again?

"Shhh..." Buffy growled. "Dawn's sleeping."

"Sorry..." Angel responded, lowering his voice to a whisper. "But, I mean, you gotta understand my confusion here..."

Spike snorted. "Course we understand it. You always were the walkin' wall of confusion, eh Grandpapa? I betcha my tree out there has got more brains than you. I know it has more bark, anyway..."

Angel growled low in his throat. "Shut up, Spike." He spat the younger vampire's name out like it was poisonous.

"Spike, please... No giant pissing contests this time," Buffy pleaded, eying her friend warily. He turned his gaze to her and... bloody hell... he relaxed his stance, doing exactly as she asked, because he still hadn't found a way of saying no to her and not feeling like a complete wanker afterwards. He was a bloody poof if there was ever one. Hell, bigger than cave man Angelus here. He may as well bow down and kiss her feet next. *Which...* he eyed her cute lil slayer feet...*wasn't a bad idea...*

Buffy watched him staring at her intently and she flushed, thinking of her more pleasant dream of tonight. *Dreams... oh...right...* she thought, pushing herself back on track.

"Angel..." She paused, trying to get her mind off of memories involving a blindfold and lots of kissage. "Why are you here?"

"Wait a minute..." Angel put a hand up to stop her, because quite frankly, he still had no clue what was going on here. He noticed the intensity between the two of them, sure, that was hard to miss. Buffy was flushed, and he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. But he wanted to know WHY this intensity existed, in the first place. Had he accidentally stepped into another one of those damned alternate universes? "I still wanna know what HE'S doing here," Angel poked Spike in the chest.

Buffy glared at him now, smacking his hand away from his grand-childe's. "Play nice. Spike's a good puppy now."

Spike grinned that defiant, cocky ass son of a bitch smirk of his. "That's right mate, I've gone softer'n a marshmallow in cocoa."

Angel raised his brows, fighting off the sudden fit of hysterical giggles ready to overtake him. One escaped his throat anyway, and at the mere sound of it, he nearly burst into outright laughter. "Spike, good? What are you talking about?" He laughed. "You're not serious are you? Cuz if you are… "

"And I would let him into my house because of a joke?" Buffy crossed her arms, staring at Angel like he'd finally gone of the deep end.

Spike growled at his sire's antics. "Hard to believe or not, Soul Train, but I don't need no stinkin' soul to wear a White Hat. I'm a good Slayer's pet sidekick." He raised his brows in defiance. "I've switched teams."

Angel looked filled with disbelief. His eyes searched Buffy's. "And you really believe him?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Buffy asked, feeling angered at Angel's disbelief. Did no one trust her judgment?! "I told you when I called that Spike helped me take down Glory."

"Yeah, but Buffy you never explained that he was still here..." Angel added. "Or that he's supposedly switched teams. I thought he was doing it for some kinda reward, not out of the not-there kindness of his heart!" the elder vampire explained, looking into his ex-lover's eyes. Suddenly, he was afraid of the answers he might get.

"See, short story version, grand-poof...is... I got this pretty lil chip from the government, made me work for me bread'n blood, changed teams, been fightin' the good fight. As of late, went'n got myself a good ol' brain zappin' heart startin' electrocution the other night. Presto, no more chip to keep back good ol' Spike." He wrapped his arm around Buffy. "Thing is, I still like me white hate. Now, 'm all poofter like, taking after your footprints and the sort, Poo-ba. Except I'm doin' a better job of it. Even called a FRIEND to Xander. Scarier than you ever thought I could be, eh Cow Eyes?"

Angel felt a furious jealous rage course through his insides at seeing Spike's arm around Buffy. He was gawking at them. Buffy chuckled at the fish out of water impression Angel was doing and eased herself gently out of Spike's arm. "He's good Angel. If you don't trust him, trust me. Spike's a friend."

"A friend?" Angel questioned, skeptical.

They all knew there was more to the question.

Buffy burned under the men's gazes. "Uh… friends. I said friends, did I not?" She fidgeted. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"Cordy had a vision." Angel answered. He was satisfied with their talk yet, but he knew it would have to do for now. Dawn was in danger.

"Oh no..." Buffy sat on the couch. "First my slayer dream... then Spike sensing it, and now Cordy..." She groaned. "If it's another hell god, I'm leaving the planet permanently."

Spike sat next to her, a worried look on his face. "Pet..."

"To the moon...no more afterlife stuff for me... no way..." Buffy assured him.

Angel felt sick at their closeness. They looked so comfortable with each other, and quite frankly, it was wrong. On soo many levels. He sat down gingerly on a chair, away from any windows facing the rising sun. "We rushed out as soon as we could after the vision. Tell me about your dreams..." he asked gently, needing to keep focused on the job at hand before he turned around and ripped Spike apart for just being here.

"Dream! Not dreams! Singular! Dream! There was only one dream tonight!!" Buffy assured him hastily, blushing slightly.

Spike eyed her with care. "Everything all right there, luv?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, momma vamp." She paused to shake her head, breaking eye contact with him. When he looked at her like that, she felt as if he could see right through her. "Anyway...about my dream...the prophecy type thing..." Her eyes darted to Spike, then she rested them on Angel. She explained the dream in detail especially the screams she heard at the end being Dawn's.

Angel frowned, the worried expression on his face pulling it downward in great lengths. "Cordy's vision was about Dawn. She said she saw something touching her, draining the energy from her..."

"That's how it felt in my dream..." Buffy frowned, fear working its way to her gut at the implications.

Spike growled low in his throat and snorted. "No one's touching the Nibblet. This time 'll be damn sure no one dies. Not this time..."

Angel listened to Spike's burst of arrogant bravado, still having a hard time grasping the fact that for once, Spike wanted to help, not to hurt. "We'll all protect Dawn," Angel offered, looking to Buffy.

Spike snarled. Dawn was his to protect, and so was Buffy. These were his girls, damn it... Peaches gave up the right to them when he hightailed it out of Sunnydale like the coward he was.

"What would want Dawn though? Why?" Buffy frowned, ignoring Spike's growls. "Who would need that much energy?"

"I don't know. There was bright light, Cordy said... like in your dream..." Angel offered.

"Well that just narrows it down right nice, Gramps. Right then, well done! A big ball of shiny light wants my Bite Size! Good show, Detective Holmes!" Spike barked at Angel in irritation, the sarcasm rolling off of him in waves.

"Spike..." Buffy chided gently. "It won't help Dawn any if you two can't get along..."

"Bloody hell Slayer," Spike rumbled. "This is Nibblet we're talking about! We need to figure this out!"

"I know! I'm worried too, but all this fighting and strutting isn't helping!" Buffy's voice held a pleading note to it. "Please..." she pushed him, her voice now filled with a weariness he hadn't noticed earlier.

"In Cordy's vision there was a bright light. We should work from there..." Angel started to suggest, but was interrupted.

"Hey!" Cordelia's voice entered the room. "Didn't anyone tell you its not nice to talk about people when they're not around...?" she smiled sleepily in greeting, stepping through the front door and closing it behind her. "So we all decided for a 4 AM reunion and… Holy!!!!" Angel's link to the PTB's stumbled back at seeing Spike.

"Buffy!! That's Spike!"

Buffy groaned and dropped her forehead on Spike's shoulder wearily. There was no way Dawn was going to get any sleep through all this racket. "Cordy!! Quiet!"

"But…but..."

"Hey, cheerleader..." Spike waved, putting on his most evil smile. Cordelia nearly fainted. "You look smashing as ever, pet."

Delia ignored him. "What's he doing here?"

"We really need to call LA more often, cutie," Spike muttered gently to Buffy, her head still against his shoulder. He enjoyed both the feeling of that, and the one from Cordelia's complete and utter shock.

"Tell me `bout it," Buffy mumbled in response, her mind in over drive.

Footsteps padded down the stairs, causing everyone to look up.

Spike looked up to see Dawn's sleepy face. "Nibblet!"

She smiled weakly. "Spike..." she paused, noticing more people in her living room. Cordelia... Angel..." She reached the bottom of the stairs. "What are you all doing here? At sunrise?" she grumbled. "And waking me up 2 hours before I have to be up! I have a test tomorrow, you know!"

Buffy wished that tests were all Dawn would ever need to worry about. She sighed. That was all Dawn did need to worry about. It was her job to worry about protecting her sister. "Nothing, Dawnie. Angel decided to come say Hi. Go back to sleep..."

Angel gave her one of his infamous, stern, disapproving looks. "Buffy..."

"You heard big sis!" Spike interrupted Angel. There was no way he was telling his Little Bit that she was in danger. Not yet. And especially when she had school to worry about. "Off to bed, Platelet."

"I wanna know what's going on..." Dawn whined, trying to con her protector with a fierce pout.

Spike got up. "It's really nothing, Bit... Go get some more rest. Don't want you to forget our lessons for the test cuz the Poofter and company wouldn't let you sleep," Spike winked.

She yawned, relenting. "Okay...okay…but you're dishing tomorrow." She reached out sleepily and hugged Spike. "Night."

Spike smiled and embraced his girl gently. She was too damn cute to play tough guy with when she was all sleepy like that.

Dawn eyed him, realizing that he'd let go of the bad ass image long enough to give it to her good. "Going soft on me?"

"Regular poofter I am," he responded with a bittersweet smirk, whispering just so she could hear him.

"Goodnight," Buffy smiled.

"Night everyone," Dawn called back over her shoulder, footsteps heavy with sleep as she made her way back upstairs.

Angel couldn't believe what he'd just seen. And he knew he'd seen it, William the Bloody...hugging...a child... and enjoying it, but he couldn't seem to cram the concept into his already overworked brain. Just what the hell... His head threatened to explode under the impact of all this new information that it wasn't ready to accept. He shook it off dazedly, rationalizing that there were other matters at hand of greater importance, for now.

Once Dawn had returned safely to bed, Angel spoke up again. "I think we should tell her she's in danger."

"Real smart idea, Angelus. Are you always this brilliant? Right...you are... with the whole lot of trouble you got me and Dru in back in the old country, guess I should have remembered. You were a bloody idiot then, and you are now..." He paused before continuing his assault by doing his impression of Angel. "Let's see, I'm Angelus, the great big cotton poof ball. I have an idea! Why don't we go get a 15 year old girl outta her nice warm bed and scare the bloody hell outta her hours before she has to take a big exam?!" Spike scoffed, angry. Only when he received a flagrant look from Buffy did he rolled his eyes and stop. "Bloody hell..." he mumbled, feeling more whipped now than he had in months.

"The only danger Dawn needs to worry about is passing her test," Buffy agreed with Spike in a more politically correct manner, eyes still on Spike, as if she was reassuring him of his fears. He held her gaze for a moment, and then gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, communicating to her that he would stand behind whatever decision she made. That decided, the Slayer turned calmer, if not bone tired eyes to Angel.

"Once we figure out what's going on, we'll tell her."

"Okay... is no one else shocked and amazed at Daddy Spike here?" Cordy stared at the spot where Dawn and Spike hugged. "Like...hello??" She raised her hands and waved them slightly, to emphasize the point.

"Cordy, Spike is of the good now. That's all you need to know," Buffy rubbed her forehead. She was so tired, but something told her, she'd get no rest tonight. Today...

"Right then," Spike broke the silence that had built, seeing Buffy on the verge of falling asleep right then and there. "What say we meet at the magic shop in a few hours? Maybe Giles knows what's after Dawn, and we can figure out how to hack it into little pieces with our great big weapons."

"Good idea," Cordy agreed, as tired as the other mortal in the room. "C'mon, Angel... we'll drive to a hotel fast. We may make it before sun up and that way, I won't have to vacuum you out of your seat."

"Here's hoping for no vacancies then," Spike snorted.

"And just how are YOU getting home before sunrise Spike?" Angel snapped, irritated to the edge by Spike's garish remarks.

Spike slunk back onto the couch next to Buffy. "I'll just stay with my FRIEND, the slayer til then." He casually rested an arm around Buffy's shoulders and smirked.

Buffy groaned, leaning on him. "Stop it you two." She couldn't stand the remarks anymore and had tried to sound annoyed, but the yawn that punctuated her mid sentence did little to aid her. She knew the best way to keep Spike silent, was to give him what he wanted. Sad to say… it was her attention. But as long as it would just get quiet, and the possible threat of her vampires throttling each other would go away, everything would be of the good.

"Anything you say, luv," Spike patted her arm, proving her theory right.

Angel was completely fed up at the sight of them like that. There was nothing more he wanted in the whole wide world right now than to wipe that smug look of William's face with a sledgehammer. Turning away from them, he realized that he and Buffy needed to talk, alone, sometime. But now was not that time. He stood up and gestured Cordy ahead of him. "We'll see you all later. The whole crew is with us."

"Even Fred," Cordelia added, upbeat.

"Fred?" Buffy looked up.

"Well, we really do need to keep in touch more," Cordelia stated, shaking her head as she left the Summer's house.

"Bye, Buffy..." Angel forced a smile.

She smiled, eyes half open. "Bye, Angel."

"Later, Granddaddy..." Spike waved.

Then the guests were gone, the door was shut, and there was silence.

Spike expected Buffy to jump off his shoulder, break his nose, and push him out the door. "Guess I should make a run for it, then, eh pet? If I sprint, I can make it back to the crypt before morning fries me."

"Stay." Buffy said it before she had a chance to think it over. "It's too late…er…early for you to make it back," she muttered tiredly. It would be okay.

Spike's undead heart did a little leap and perhaps, a few cartwheels in his chest. "Really?"

She nodded, beginning to fall asleep again. "Watch Dawn..."

He kissed her forehead. "Till the end of the world..."

"And me..." she drifted off, head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

He gently rested her head against his chest and grabbed a nearby blanket, covering her. He sat back, the slayer in his arms. He wondered if he was dreaming.

Dawn stretched her arms out above her head with a sigh as she pounded down the stairs. She had set her alarm early, so that she'd have plenty of time this morning. She held her notes from Spike's lesson clutched in one hand, planning on reviewing them over a good breakfast. If Buffy had started cooking...if she hadn't, she'd kill her. She pounded into the living room to retrieve her school bag, but skidded to a halt, her eyes bulging at what she saw. A giant Cheshire cat grin formed slowly on her face as realization sunk in and she had to cover her mouth to curb the fit of giggles threatening to erupt from within her. The scene before her gave her a funny sense of deja vu. The other day she caught Buffy amidst a Spike dream. Now...here, on her couch, in the darkened living room... was Spike and Buffy... fast asleep, and most importantly, together. Dawn fought the urge to shout in happiness and wondered in passing if she had a camera handy, somewhere.

She felt the grin threatening to split her face, and had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep it from doing just that. Buffy was spooned tightly against Spike, her head resting on his chest, feet curled on the couch, and her arm draped along Spike's lap, clutching the blanket that covered them. Spike's head was tilted back, and close to her hair, his own arms wrapped around the slayer in a protective, possessive embrace. They fit so well together. It seemed like such an intimate moment and Dawn instantly wished she could take herself to school and not wake them, but Buffy would be really mad if she went alone. She stepped over to them carefully, rubbing Buffy's arm gently. "Wake up, Buffy..." she whispered, trying not to wake Spike as well. Buffy groaned tiredly and snuggled deeper into the nook Spike's arms formed around her.

Spike tightened his grasp as she moved closer to him, not showing any signs of waking up.

Dawn frowned. She hated to do this, but... "C'mon Buff..." She shook her sister a bit harder.

Spike stirred, eyes opening at the intrusion. He blinked, disoriented, trying to see straight and figure out just what in the hell was going on at the same time.

"Sorry, Spike..." Dawn apologized giving him her most regretful expression when he turned to her and partial realization dawned. "I got school..."

Spike nodded with understanding, yet he couldn't remember exactly what was going on right now. "Nibblet..." he said, trying to gather his bearings.

"Yeah?" she turned those gigantic eyes on him.

He moved to sit up when he realized there was weight in his lap. "Buffy?" Spike shifted, studying the precious cargo in his lap. He beamed brightly all of sudden, not ever feeling so good in his whole existence. He remembered.

Dawn grinned, seeing the perfectly goofy smile that graced his usually hard features. She'd never seen Spike smile that way before. It gave her butterflies to see him so happy. "I'll go and start the breakfast. Give you a minute to wake her up good and proper," Dawn teased. Spike was too amazed at the sight before him to toss a quip back at Nibblet so just made due with an offhanded nod in her general direction. He was afraid to blink, afraid to move.

Dawn turned and bounced into the kitchen, air in her step. She wondered if Spike liked bacon and eggs??

Spike wished for nothing more than to stay like this forever, but Dawn did need to go to school. He frowned regretfully, not too thrilled with the thought of disturbing the precious cargo lying ensconced in his arms. He cradled her against him tenderly, tilting her head back into the crook of his arm. He looked around, making sure he was alone with her.

He looked down at her beautiful, sleeping face. He pulled her close to his chest, cuddling her, resting his head against hers. He nuzzled her close, drowning in her scent, her presence. He fought to keep back a purr, but to no avail, as it vibrated down low and throaty in his chest. He sighed, pulling back after a moment, just to look at her. Her head fell against his chest, and he freed the hand cradling her body close. He cupped her cheek, grazing his fingertips along her smooth face. Smiled gently, and at the irony that she was unconscious, he wished he could kiss her. His fingertips traced her lips and he shuddered with want.

Buffy began to stir faintly in his arms. She shifted, feeling comforted by the presence around her. She smiled in her sleep.

Spike would've dropped her, had they not been sitting. She smiled! Smiled at him! Well...she didn't bloody well know it was him, he rationalized, but the smile had done him in. He continued rubbing small circles along her cheek with his thumb. "Buffy..."

She murmured and pushed against him, burrowing her head into his chest. "Hmm..."

"Buffy..." he repeated, gently stirring her from the haze of rest, though he almost regretted it. She was so precious, so innocent and sweet like this. The girl was at peace in her sleep, so far away from the daily trials of her life that rocked the world. She seemed genuinely happy. Not at all like she was when she was awake. How carefully guarded and scared she was, when she was awake. Here, she was just asleep, relaxed, at peace. Spike wondered if this was the side of Buffy he'd always dreamed of knowing. Waking up with her in the morning, and touching her, feeling her warm body... the closest to heaven he'd ever know. Taking note she was still asleep, he leaned in close to her. He felt her hot breathing on his face. He would take this moment. Maybe daydream a little. He would say I love you, and she would smile back, instead of rack her features with revulsion. "Buffy, I love you..." he murmured, before he could stop himself.

She moaned tiredly, stretching her legs like a cat. "I know..." she mumbled, still quite asleep.

Spike squeezed her closer. And he wondered. "Could you ever love me?" he asked softly, more to himself than to her.

"Spike...?" she sighed.

"Yes love, it's me..." Spike's heart threatened a beat, anticipation driving him wild. He tightened his grasp on her. Wondering how she would react when she awoke, finding them like this. He hoped she wouldn't hate him. "Please..."

Buffy yawned and she stretched. "Spike..." she mumbled, eyes opening. Her eyes widened at the implication of those words and at seeing those swirling, charming blue eyes up so close. "Whoa!!" she yelped. Buffy jumped, scurrying out of his arms.

"Spike?!"

Spike's heart plummeted to his boots, but he forced a small smile. He let his grasp on her go, wordlessly.

Buffy's heart raced wildly. "What... what??"

"You asked me to stay, luv," Spike reminded her softly, his heart breaking.

Buffy's eyes scanned his disappointed face. Her heart began to slow and her mind began to clear as she thought back to last night. "Oh...right..." she suddenly remembered her sleep filled plea from scant hours ago. She felt her face go bright red.

Spike cocked his head to the side, seeing her face flush. Was she embarrassed?

"Well...uh..." She patted down her tousled hair, realizing that she must look awful....

Spike felt a smile play at his lips. God, she was beautiful...

"Thanks...for...staying..." she stuttered, nervous at his closeness. She pulled the blanket off, feeling a need to inspect her clothing.

"Didn't touch you, luv, swear..." Spike frowned at her. Did she really think him such a monster?? Okay...not that he wasn't thinking about it, a lot, but he'd never...

Buffy frowned, hating the look on his face. "Don't be silly! I don't think you..." she paused not able to pull off the lie. Instead, she changed the subject. "That was really sweet of you to stay with me."

"Anytime," Spike responded. *Whenever she wanted, whatever she wanted, whatever she needed,* he added in his mind.

Buffy felt nervous butterflies playing in her empty stomach at the smoldering look he was sending her. She took a moment to study him, and realized with no small amount of delight that his hair was all disheveled and curly, and his eyes reflected the color of a thunderstorm sky. He looked so...oh God...yes…so cute. She subconsciously found herself inching her way back into Spike's lap.

Spike wrapped his arms around her, unsure of what she was up to. "What is it..." a small finger came to his lips.

"Shh..." Buffy whispered, leaning close to his face. She had no idea what had possessed her, but she was moving on him, and she had no control. He looked too damn adorable like that, all disoriented and tousled. "Spike..." she traced his lips. Her eyes looked away from her finger, and into his eyes. Her hand cupped his chiseled cheek and she grinned at him. "You're so...beautiful." She spoke with perhaps not love, but definite fondness in her voice. She had no idea where all this was coming from. Her heart pounded so hard, it might explode. Spike was afraid the sun was going to come in and burn him to toast at any second. Had he heard her right? Was she really sitting in his lap, cupping his face? Was she really that close? Was her heart pounding that fiercely? It couldn't be...

Buffy smiled at him, brushing the pads of her fingers along his eyes till he closed them. She closed her own eyes and leaned in.

Spike knew this wouldn't last, but he would treasure this one moment forever. There was no one to stop this from happening. He'd finally get his one good day.

Buffy pressed her lips against his gently, and the coolness of his mouth made goose bumps prickle on her arms. She groaned softly, inviting him to kiss her back. Something inside her burst and she felt so free and dizzy. Her mind spun, her heart pounded so hard she felt her ribs ache. It was so amazing. Spike pulled her small frame into his and his lips pressed against hers. He was kissing her. Kissing his slayer. He remembered the feel of her lips from months ago, when he'd kept Dawn's identity to Glory secret. Dear God, he thought he'd died then and here now, was his slayer in his arms, kissing him. He treasured the feel of her warm, salty lips, wanting to get to know every part of her

mouth. He felt so hot inside, his insides threatened to come to life with the mere touch of her mouth to his. He moved to deepen the kiss, parting his lips gently. Buffy pulled suddenly back, staring at him with big eyes. "Whoa..."

Spike looked at her, burning so much with want heat that it lit his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"This..." Buffy got up, backing away. "It's... Spike, I just can't..." She panicked. The desire for him was eating her up inside. She wasn't ready for this. Not yet. She couldn't give in to her feelings for Spike. The hurt in Spike's eyes made her cringe, but she stood her ground. "Please understand... I…we shouldn't, it's wrong… I'm sorry…"

Spike closed his eyes, and wanting nothing more to explode at the girl and call her some flimsy tease. But, that was the farthest thing she was in his eyes. She needed time; she got it. He had all the time in the world. "It's okay. I didn't mean..."

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't you..." Buffy blushed at their situation. She'd never figured herself to be this sort of spot with him. "I...uh...better get dressed."

Spike nodded from the couch. "Alright, luv..."

She got up hastily and made her way towards the stairs. Spike watched her go, wishing he could say something, anything to fix whatever weirdness there was inevitably going to be after that one, amazing, perfect moment. Instead, he was mildly surprised when she turned around at the base of the stairs to look at him. "Spike?"

"Yeah, love?"

There was a slight look of mischief in her eye, and he was relieved that she was communicating to him that their little transgression had not after all, created any awkwardness between them. "Don't tell anyone that I said this, but, you're a better kisser than Angel." She smiled and laughed impishly at the completely taken look on his face and went up the stairs with a toss of her hair.

He watched her go with no small amount of awe. Did she just… she just… and they… and in the end, everything was still all right. Her marveled at the implication for a moment, but was thrown off the track when the smell of something distinctively on fire hit his senses. He jumped to his feet and dashed for the kitchen. "Nibblet?!"

Part XXII: Outside the Box

Angel couldn't sleep. He knew he should get some rest, but the constant plague of nightmares involving Buffy, Spike, and Buffy and Spike touching constantly tormented his subconscious. He made a face and rolled on to his side, trying to erase that particularly unpleasant implication. There was no way that Buffy would ever… He sighed, realizing he was in denial. He'd been with those two less than an hour earlier, and he'd seen something deceptively tender and comfortable with their presence around one another. He supposed he could chalk it up to a close friendship in the rational part of his mind, but the way they had looked at each other spoke volumes for the part of him that really mattered. He wondered vaguely, if Buffy had lied to him to save from hurting his feelings. Had she told him that she and Spike were simply friends to perhaps, ease the pain that would be inevitable if he were to find out the true nature of their relationship?

He growled. She wouldn't lie to him. After all they had been through together, he knew that she knew that they respected each other more than to lie. Though he had to agree that her being with Spike was something worth hiding. He pulled another face, and tossed onto his back again. What the hell was going on with them, then? Buffy told him they were just friends, her and Spike, and he owed it to her to believe her. He knew she would never lie to him just to save her own face, and she knew that no matter what, he'd still have her in the highest of esteem. The bottom line was, she would always tell the truth to him. So what, then? Because he knew, but the looks and light touches and comforts exchanged between his grand-childe and the love of his life last night had been more than platonic. As far as he had seen, they had practically embodied the picture of the blissful lovers. It just screamed it to him. But if he trusted his instincts on the matter, it would most definitely mean that Buffy had lied to him. It made him feel bad to even think that about her. Then what?

A third possibility loomed on the edge of his consciousness like a bad omen, encroaching on the territory of his thoughts like a silent, stalking predator, ready to pounce upon him and rip everything he deemed probable into bloody, bloody shreds. He fought it, but with each passing moment, it became a more and more likely truth amidst his random rationalizations and post-rationalization refutes. And then it was there, the only real reason that made any sense, despite his desperate want to refute or rationalize it, tuck it away in a little box and throw away the key. It refused to be pushed away and with a brash arrogance that reminded the souled vampire of Spike, it yelled and mocked at him with its truth. His golden, precious, flawless, sweet Buffy was madly, unquestionably, irrefutably, in love with a monster. She just didn't know it yet. The dark part of Angel prayed that she would never know. Prayed that that dark little secret hiding within her seemingly flawless depths would stay in its death-like slumber just below the surface, never to awaken and be forced to the light of day.

Laying on his back and staring at the pockmarked, water stained ceiling of the 24-hour motel, Angel made his realizations. Then he puzzled over them, over and over until it was quite clear that there would be no sleep on his part, and he got up and got dressed. Then he proceeded to sit at the small desk provided by the motel, which lay parallel to the entertainment center, and thought some more. He told himself Buffy had fallen to Spike, devastated after the second man of her life left her, and she'd just needed something, anything to latch onto. But then, he realized she deserved more credit than that. She hadn't always needed someone. She'd been strong enough to rely on herself and that inner strength he had seen in her the first time she'd thrown him up against the building with all the ferocity and fire that the years and forged into a strong, smart, independent woman. But if she was so smart, so strong, so independent, then why was she currently ensconced in a heated tryst with an undead, soulless, demon?

That was another excuse his rational mind was thinking up to make the rest of him feel better. He knew it, and decided to stop it right there. Spike had always been different. He could never quite be completely boxed and grouped with all the other undead, soulless, savage beasts of the night. Angelus, one of the aforementioned creatures, had recognized that in Spike, but had pushed past it as something unique to the boy, which accounted for his unrestrained savagery at times. He'd recognized in Spike a passionate being who simply longed for a good fight. Spike had never truly troubled himself in his kills as Angel had, and at the time, he had thought Spike simply didn't have the patience to artfully execute a plan and a kill. In truth, Spike hadn't had that sort of murder in him. He'd been a killer yes, but he didn't like murder unless he could help it.

Spike had avoided the cream of society that Darla and Angel had enjoyed tormenting for their wealth and their weakness. He'd in truth, preferred a good fight, a fair fight, and perhaps, dinner afterwards, if he was hungry. Angel remembered a time when Spike had jumped into a fight with 5 burly, seriously pissed of sailors just because he thought it would be fun to try his luck and throw in with some real brawlers. Spike hadn't even used his demon visage the entire battle. He'd just fought. And when he'd defeated all opponents, five grown men unconscious on the floor, Spike had only taken one to feed on. When questioned on the waste of 4 other perfectly good kills by Darla, Spike had shrugged and tossed the dead body of his meal to the floor and stated quiet simply that, "he wasn't that hungry."

Dru, the mad sire that she had been, had simply laughed and clapped her hands at her brilliant creation, cooing about what a, "delightful, hooked question" her boy was. Spike had bowed and proceeded to fawn over the insane beauty, completely ignoring the bodies strewn about on the floor. Angelus of course, would have none of that. The present day Angel winced when he remembered the sound that those men's necks had made, snapping in the quiet of the night under the heel of his exquisite boots. He'd laughed at the sound, and bowed with flourish at Darla's approving applause. His sire had turned to Spike then and with a certain air of distaste stated, "watch and learn William, from a real vampire."

Spike had very irreverently told her to fuck off, saying, "What's the point of killing them if they aren't going to be eaten? Bloody waste of good food, if you ask me. Now they just rot."

Angelus and Darla had both looked at him with uncontrollable disgust, and proceeded to ignore him. He'd always been a lesser vampire in their eyes. Looking back now, Angel wished he had realized the validity of his grand-childe's claims. Maybe if he had paid heed, it would have purged the blood of some needless murders from his already besotted hands.

But he was off track. This entire time of realizing that Buffy was in love with Spike, he had been hoping Spike would rear from that love in disgust, because well, he was a vampire, without a soul. But looking back, Spike had never been a conventional vampire, if anything. The nonconformist in the boy had gone against everything that grand-sire and great-grand-sire had attempted to impart on him, on the mere premise that he disliked labels, and even more so, boundaries. He'd strove to break those lines that held him back from anything. Once, Spike had gone a week without killing any of his meals just to prove to Darla that he was in control of everything. Not the bloodlust, not his sire, or his family. He was the bloody boss of himself, and no one else. When he was told to respect his elders, he had openly laughed at the master's name and was a constant source of horrendous nicknames for Darla and Angelus in like. The only reason they hadn't killed the impudent rat, Angel surmised, was that he'd kept Dru occupied and out of the way. And lastly, when Angelus had told Spike to avoid the slayer if he wanted to live, Spike had immediately gone and looked for her, found her, and killed her just because his grand-sire had said with an almost smug certainty, that the girl called Slayer would be the one to kill young, ignorant William. Spike had always rebelled, just because if there was anyone who could, it was him.

And so yet again, why shouldn't Spike defy convention? Why couldn't he love the slayer? If any soulless vampire could feel emotion, it would be Spike. Just because he'd always strove to be different. And the look that Angel had seen William give Buffy the night before only served to concrete the evidence that the elder vampire had so vehemently attempted to deny moments ago. Buffy loved Spike. And Spike almost certainly, loved Buffy back. Angel nearly laughed at the irony that punctuated it all. The one slayer that could love vampires had found the one soulless vampire, which could love the slayer. It might have been funny, if it had been anyone but his Buffy. Sadly, Angel picked up the phone and called Giles, pushing all thoughts besides those of his given mission form his mind. There were other, more urgent things to sort out first.

Giles picked up the phone, looking up as the door opened and a flaming blanket ran it, cursing non too gently as Tara and Willow moved instantly to his side to put him out. "Hello, Magic Box… oh, good morning, Angel," Giles greeted surprised to hear the vampire's voice after so long. "Um, you're in Sunnydale? Oh dear, is something the matter? No, I haven't talked to Buffy yet, I imagine she's dropping Dawn off at school. Great Expectations test and whatnot. Spike? He just arrived, why? Oh, okay then. Yes, be here within the hour if you can, he'll have filled us in by then. Very well. Goodbye."

"Was that Angel?" Willow asked; looking concerned as she folded Spike's blanket for him and laid it off to the side while he and Tara patted his smoking hair back into place.

Giles nodded. "Um yes, apparently, last night, they arrived and stopped at Buffy's. Cordelia had a vision."

"Oh. Not another apocalypse, I hope?" the witch asked, brow furrowed with worry.

"Um, I'm not sure. But they'll be here soon, and until then, Spike is to tell us everything he knows."

Spike looked up at the sound of his name. "What was that, Rupert?"

"Um, Angel just called."

"Oh. Right then. Cordelia had a vision. Nibblet's in trouble. Something nasty wants a bite of her, again."

"Oh, dear." Giles went a little pale at the possibility of another hell god.

"Now, none of that Watcher, this time is going to be different from last time. Nibblet doesn't have a hair harmed on her pretty lil' head and Buffy comes home safe'n sound, you hear? Even if I bloody well have to die again to see it."

By Spike's tone of voice, Giles wondered which of them the vampire was trying to convince. The Watcher's features softened, realizing perhaps for the umpteenth time, how fervently a supposedly soulless killer could care for two young women.

"So, are we in research mode, then?" Willow asked, ready to break out the books.

"Um…what exactly are we you know, looking for?" Tara asked quietly, eyes on Spike.

He pulled Buffy's dream journal out of the inside pocket of his duster. Buffy'd told him to bring it this morning while she dropped off Dawn at school. He'd read over what she had written on last night's dream while he had been putting the flames out of the remnants of Dawn's catastrophic attempt at breakfast, and he, for one, didn't like one bit of what he'd read. He was tempted to just go down to Willy's, get the lowdown on every single friggin' demon within Sunnyhell limits and slaughter them all. It would be nice and clean. He'd get rid of all the potential danger to his Nibblet and Buffy, and he'd be the only one running the risk of any injury. It was a bloody brilliant plan, if anyone asked him. He'd even proposed it to Buffy just before she'd left with Dawn that morning, but she'd just looked at him with that, "Are you crazy? You'll get murdered!" look she sometimes gave him when she thought he was being brash. He supposed it was good to know she cared, in any case.

Willow poured over the contents of the dream journal, scrutinizing every small detail present until it was either engrained in her brain, or had burst into flame from the intensity of her study. She made a face. "That sounds horrible!"

"Bloody right it does," Spike agreed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Worse is, Puffy's here."

"P-Puffy?" Tara asked, curious.

Willow smiled at her lover. "Angel."

"Oh." Tara smiled, because she'd never heard of anyone calling a vampire Puffy. But if anyone would dare call one by such a name, it would be Spike, she supposed.

"And he's bringin' his whole bloody surrogate Scooby gang," Spike added, looking disdainfully on some unspecific point on the tabletop and contemplating a smoke.

"Hello Scoobies, I come bearing gifts of food and drink!!" Xander exclaimed, shattering what little tranquility was to be had in the shop as he barreled in, arms laden with donut boxes. "Okay, maybe just food. I don't have enough hands to carry coffee and or blood for everyone," he mused, plopping the box down on the table, followed by a bottle of blood fresh from Willy's for Spike. "Okay, does blood count as food or drink for vampires? Because if it's drink, then technically, I brought food AND drink, and I was right the first time."

Willow giggled and looked at Anya, who followed her fiancé into the shop. "You let him have donuts on the way down here, didn't you?"

Anya sighed. "Well, they only had two chocolates left at the shop, and we decided we had to eat them on the way here so that no one would feel left out when they didn't get a chocolate."

"No chocolate?" Willow pouted. "Lemon jelly?"

"Surprisingly," Xander stated sarcastically, "they had plenty of those left."

"Yeah, cuz they're bloody nasty," Spike snorted. "You get my raspberry jelly, whelp?"

Xander rolled his eyes, just because it was a familiar part of the ritual, and nodded. "Four raspberry jelly's for you, you great big strange, food eating vampire you."

"And yes, we got good old glaze," Xander stated, before Giles could cut in and inquire as to his preference.

Tara didn't say anything, as per usual, and Xander smiled, grabbed a napkin, and with flourish, produced a maple frosted rainbow sprinkle donut. "And for the lady…"

"Oh! Donuts!"

Everyone looked up at the familiar, yet strange sound of Cordelia's voice as she held the door open to allow a smoking; blanket covered Angel to run inside.

"Cordy! Angel! Why are you here?" Xander asked, puzzled.

"The cheerleader had a vision `bout Nibblet," Spike explained, tearing his donut in half so he could dip it into his blood. No one made a face at this except for Cordelia, because they'd grown used to it.

"Vision? Dawn's in trouble? What? Where? When? And why didn't anyone tell me to get more donuts?"

"Donuts?" Gunn peeked in, looking around. "Man, I'm starved. Got any glazed?"

Xander regarded the newcomer warily. "Who's this?"

"That's Gunn, Xander," Willow explained. "He's part of Scooby the Deux."

"Scooby? Like the dog?" Gunn asked, grabbing a glazed donut from the box.

"No, like the bleedin' mouse," Spike drawled, annoyed when Cordelia took one of his raspberry donuts.

Angel looked at the food for a second, then grabbed a glaze and handed it to Fred, who studied the offering intently for a moment, before beaming radiantly at him and accepting it. His eyes sparkled in return, and he took the half full container of blood left over from Spike's share. Tara noticed he was going to drink it straight from the bottle, but moved to get him a cup instead. "Where's Buffy?" the elder vamp asked, as usual, getting straight to the point. Spike rolled his eyes and grabbed another jelly donut to set to the side for the Slayer when she got back. Last time he'd eaten all the raspberry jellies she'd nearly staked him then and there.

"She's dropping Dawn off at school."

"What?" Angel gaped. "She could be in danger, and they're still taking her to school?"

"If she doesn't go to school, social services has threatened to take her from Buffy and put her in foster care," Giles responded, taking his glasses off to polish them.

"Oh," Angel muttered. "We'll wait for Buffy to get back then." He sipped his mug of blood thoughtfully, regarding his surroundings and the people there curiously. He knew everyone but the blond girl who had gotten him the cup. She looked almost petrified by the large influx of new people suddenly appearing. So much so that she didn't even protest when Wesley grabbed the maple sprinkle donut off of the napkin on the table, not thinking it belonged to anyone.

"Hey! Bloody well give that back," Spike protested loudly, causing the ex-watcher to jump slightly.

"Excuse me?" Wesley asked the vampire warily.

"If it's out of the damn box, then it's someone else's, you git. Give it back to the lady." Spike nodded towards Tara.

Wesley looked from the pilfered pastry to the young lady looking down at her hands in her lap, fidgeting. "Oh…pardon! Was this yours?"

Tara nodded timidly, and was about to offer that he have it anyway.

"Take it pet, the guests can make do with whatever's left," Spike urged her softly, so as not to startle her.

The LA gang watched the entire scene with no small amount of interest at the gentle way the supposed infamous slayer of slayers treated one young girl. It was all rather hard to take in.

"Wait, he's a vampire, right?" Gunn broke in. "Ain't he supposed to be evil?"

"He is evil," Angel shot back.

Spike flipped his grand-sire the bird, but said nothing in his defense.

"H-He's not evil," Tara protested quietly. "He's my friend."

Spike smiled at her, eyes showing his gratitude. "You know it, pet."

Cordy's eyebrows shot up. "I come back to Sunnydale and find myself in the middle of a vampire rehab program. You guys do know that the last time I saw Spike that he tortured Angel horribly?"

Xander's eyes practically lit up and he looked at Spike. "Did you make him cry?"

"No, but I think we pissed him off royally," Spike responded. "Wish I'da known we were gonna be friends, Harris, I'da taken pictures of that whole thing for you."

"Ah well, it's the thought that counts," Xander answered, patting Spike on the back.

"What thought?" Buffy asked, making an entrance by coming in through the back door from the training room. "Wow. Lots of people here. I hope there's food for me?" she asked, bouncing in. Spike held up the raspberry filled that he'd saved, and she took it, biting into it and making a face of happiness. "Mmm, best flavor," she murmured contentedly, automatically taking the seat between Willow and Spike. She finished half of the donut in no time, hungry because there hadn't been time for breakfast after they'd put out the mess (and the fire) Dawn had made. "So, what've we got so far?"

"No more donuts," Xander responded sadly. "But that's about it. We were just starting when you got here."

"Oh. Kay…So what do we know?" Buffy asked, feeding the last of her donut to Spike when she was unable to finish and wiping the powered sugar on her fingertips on the blonde vampire's jeans. Angel growled low in his throat at the gesture, but said nothing. It had seemed an unconscious effort on Buffy's part, and on Spike's as well. They fed each other often?!

As I sensing his animosity, Fred reached under the table and brushed her hand against Angel's and squeezed gently. He returned the gesture unconsciously, and it calmed him down some. But not a lot, because quite frankly, Buffy feeding Spike was a decidedly domestic, relationship-y thing to do, and it was unnerving. Somehow, Angel couldn't take his eyes off of them as they sat side by side however, and he watched with an almost morbid sense of awe in the ways they interacted. The research began, and Angel attempted to concentrate, though the little foibles of his ex-lover and childe proved too much for him to bear over time. Perhaps it had been an imagination marred with jealousy, but he saw in every little gesture, communication or touch between the two as something intimate. An hour later it reached breaking point, when Spike leaned in to whisper one of his infamous humorous anecdotes into her ear regarding some silly looking demon that he'd found. She'd laughed at him in response, a genuine, true, shoulder shaking, crinkle-eyed laugh. It had been a completely silent expression of mirth, but it had been enough, and Angel's resolve broke like the poorly constructed dam it was, letting flood waters of a long remembered, painful past wash upon his consciousness to plague and mock him. He excused himself with a grunt and stalked towards the back for some privacy and a place to reflect, delighting when he found himself in a training room, complete with a punching bag. It was no Spike, but he supposed it would do for now.

Everyone looked up as Angel made a low noise in his throat and got up, duster swooshing behind him as he made a quick exit.

"What? Was it something I said?" Xander asked, though everyone present knew he'd only said it to break the uncomfortable silence that had suddenly appeared rather than out of any remorse he might have felt for teasing the souled vampire earlier.

"Only if he's just gettin' that comment `bout the torture now, Harris," Spike responded, not looking up from his book. "Wonder what's got Grand-poofy's panties all in a twist?"

"Duh?" Cordelia responded, pointing to Buffy and Spike, who sat shoulder to shoulder. "Any more touching and you'd practically be straddling each other. What do you THINK crawled up his pants and bit him in the ass?"

There was complete silence for a moment, and then all heads turned to Buffy and Spike, as if Cordy had uttered something completely unfathomable and they had to see for themselves. Said perpetrators jumped apart under the scrutiny instantly. "What?" Buffy glared. "It's crowded in here!" was the lame excuse.

Anya looked at Cordelia. "I was just about to say the same thing. Are you an ex-demon, too?"

Cordy made a face. "You're an ex-demon?"

"I'm Xander's fiancée."

Delia turned to Xand. "And I dated you?"

"And now you're dating, who… Mister no one?"

"He died. Bite me, Harris."

Xander couldn't think of a reply to that, so he looked down with a quick, "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to go talk to him," Buffy muttered, getting up. She stopped with Spike's hand on her arm. "What?"

"Lemme talk to grand-papa first, pet. Do the whole punching bag thing; get it all out of his system. He can be a bloody hair-puller when he's pissed." He got up before she could protest and gave her his most reassuring look, slinking out of the room in a much less poofy-glorified manner than his grandsire. Buffy frowned at the thought of him being Angel's punching bag for no reason (because there was no reason for Angel to be mad, dammit!), but relented the fact that he wished to deal with the brooding vampire first. She trusted his instinct.

In a moment, Spike was standing in front of the door to the training room, mentally preparing himself to enter and at the same time, wondering when he'd become such a glutton for punishment in the first place. He grinned after a minute. "Oh yeah."

He cracked the door open just enough to slide through, closing it quietly behind him. "You really don't want to be in here, right now."

Angel's voice was punctuated, and Spike squinted into the farthermost recesses of the room, making out the dark lump of giant that was his grand-poof. "Damn right I don't want to be in here right now. But I don't want Buffy in here so you can make with the bloody lectures and the…" Spike paused to arraign his face into a giant frown and did a fair imitation of his sire's broody voice. "I'm better than you because I'm a selfless prance who thinks that makin' everyone miserable is better than takin' any risks," lecture you like to give her."

Angel growled. "I'd stop boy, because really don't want to have to kill you. You know what? On second thought, keep going. I would LOVE to kill you."

"Your threats haven't gotten any bloody better with age," Spike snorted in unconcerned response, plopping down on the couch next to Angel. He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, before realizing that he was supposed to be quitting (right?). He paused, debating whether or not he could sneak it, before seeing Buffy's face. He growled and pocketed the smoke in annoyance.

"She's making you quit," Angel commented seemingly out of the air.

"Yeah. Bloody girl could ask me to shop at Gap or sell my car, an' I'd do it."

"She has that effect on people."

"You would know."

There followed, a decidedly uncomfortable silence between the male vampires. Angel, knowing his grand-childe was waiting for him to make the first move so he could respond appropriately, sighed and eventually found voice to say what was on his mind. "It kills me every time I see her."

There was another pause as Spike regarded the older vampire's admission. "And I think it's killin' you even more that it doesn't ache as much for her when she sees you in return."

Angel growled. "It's not like that at all. I left in the first place so she could move on."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, poofter. You're still convinced you're the love of her bloody life, and you're actin' like a wet puppy `cause she doesn't feel that way anymore. She's not all teary-eyed and whimper-voiced just `cause you show up. And now you're wondering what the bloody hell went wrong."

"I'm not."

"You're not the all important Angel anymore, is what you are. She's been goin' forward with life, you know. Like you wanted her to. I wish you'd stop actin' like a wanker about it, because this keeps goin', and she'll start to feel guilty for not hurtin' like you still hurt. She'll feel guilty `cause she isn't in as much pain as you are. She's that kind of person."

"She is. But I'm not. Hurting about this. I'm happy that she's over me."

"So says the rain-shelter that's your brow, mate."

Angel glared. "I can still kill you, you know."

"You ever notice how repetitive you can be, Angelus? Let it bloody go. We both know you wouldn't kill me."

"I hate you."

"I hate you more."

"I doubt it."

Spike decided to leave it at that. "So you're not over her, then?"

"I don't think I ever will be."

"I can see how that's possible." Spike sighed and leaned his back against the couch. "I can also see how much it'd bloody hurt if you weren't over someone who was over you."

"The worst part of it is what she's moved on to."

"The Commando Kid left, mate."

"You mean Riley?"

"Yeah. He hightailed it when she wasn't needy enough."

"I knew that boy was stupid."

"Finally, something we agree on."

"But I didn't mean him." Angel turned to his childe, eyes flashing yellow in the dark room. Angel regarded Spike seriously. "How long?"

"How long, what?" Spike returned, genuinely confused. Angel had a bad habit of asking stupid questions whenever it came to Buffy. Actually, Spike considered his grand-sire stupid all of the time anyway, but he got down right ignorant when the Slayer was involved.

"You and Buffy…" the older vampire trailed off, as if the thought were too painful to finish.

"Well, aren't we the big ball of clarity tonight? How long me and Buffy, what? How long `ave we been working together? One and a half years. How long me and her been friends? Six months. How long I've been invited into her home? Since the time you tried to send us all to hell. Reinstated four months prior. How long I been a part of the gang? Officially? Three and a half months. How long you've been depraved? Too long to be healthy." Spike knew exactly what his grand-sire was getting at, but he didn't want to talk about it, especially not with him. Because then Angel would only dredge up painful truths about how undeserving of someone like Buffy Spike was. And since Spike was an expert at avoiding questions, that was good enough for him for now.

Angel growled in annoyance at the impudent vamp. He'd really thought he and Spike could have a serious conversation for once, grand-sire to childe. But apparently, the question proposed was one the younger vampire wasn't too comfortable talking about. "Don't pretend you don't understand what I'm asking, William."

Spike flared indignance at Angel's use of that infamous, patriarchal, condescending voice coupled with his human name. "Oh, so now we're getting all into the dominant Alpha male thing, then? Puffin' up'n tryin' to be the Big Bad again, Angelus? I don't bloody well know what the hell you're talking about. You come here all mighty on your high horse'n askin' all sorts of fuddy-duddy questions. Then you expect everyone else to immediately know what you're talkin' about. My advice? Talk in complete sentences. `How long' and `you and Buffy' don't constitute as such. If I went up to a bloke on the street `n asked him, `How long?' followed with, `You and Buffy… he might think I was crazy. Or you, actually. Yeah, I think he'd think I was you."

Angel sighed. "You're babbling."

"Oh, lookie, another nonsensical sentence." Spike glared and looked away, growling internally.

"You only babble when you're avoiding something, Will."

"Now that? That was a complete thought. You're improving. Good show."

"Spike, don't make me kill you."

"Well now you're just being stupid again."

"Boy, don't tempt me."

"And the evolution of Angelus takes a giant leap backwards, ladies and gentlemen. Apparently, devolution IS possible."

"Spike, do you EVER know when to shut up?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

Angel sighed and tried to calm himself down before he lost his temper. He should have known Spike would push and push until he was threatened with intense bodily harm and in worse cases, death. "How long have you loved her?" Angel ground out, finally. There, he had said it. The rest was up to the annoyance he called family.

Spike didn't act at all offended at the question, which when combined with Angel's condescending voice, sounded more like an accusation than an inquiry. Angelus had expected the boy to rage and deny every word of it, just because he was Spike and that was what he did with everything. But instead, the younger vampire just shrugged one shoulder haphazardly and looked downward, contemplating how to answer. "Too bloody long," he admitted after a while.

"And how long has she…"

"She never!" Spike responded, protesting Angel's second accusation vehemently. He would not let Angel take that tone about Buffy. That, condescending, betrayed, disgusted tone. He had no right to flaunt it in her face, and Spike would send either or both of them to hell before he let his giant poof of a grandsire use that tone of his to hurt her, again. The blonde refused to let Angel make her withdraw herself into shame and self-loathing just because he could, with his holier-than-thou attitude and his, "I'm your first love" trump card.

"Look Angelus, no matter how much I care for the girl, she'd never act on it." Spike held his arms out. "Look at me, big, murderous monster, right? You know she's too good for that. A second time, anyway."

"You think that?" Angel growled. "Maybe she thinks it too. But the rest of us, Spike? The rest of us aren't a part of the little bubble you and Buffy have put around yourselves to keep you safe from the big bad world. The rest of us are part of the world where the vampire loves the slayer, and there's a possibility she loves him, too. The rest of us are in the world where it' so fucking obvious that even Giles sees it, and apparently, has come to terms with it."

Spike scoffed. "Well everyone else's livin' in my fantasy apparently, why the hell aren't I?"

Angel shook his head. He couldn't believe he was doing this. "Don't tell me you haven't seen it, William. You two act like the world's foremost lovers, and apparently, you haven't even touched each other yet."

"There's always been fire," Spike responded, trying to act indifferent to his grand-sire's insight. "But she'd never love me."

Angel stood up. "I wish I could borrow your bubble, Spike," he said softly, regarding the younger man. And he did; he really wished he could pretend like Spike and Buffy, pretended and be completely oblivious to what was obviously happening around them. He wished that he could be blind and not see it as it made its way across the horizon in a painstakingly slow process of three steps forward and two backwards. He wished he could ignore it, like everyone else was trying to do. But it took a fool not to see it, immediately. Then again, Spike had always been a fool when it came to love.

Angel decided it was time to impart some of his own hard won knowledge on the childe he had abused more than instructed when the younger had been in need of tutorials on being a vampire. The lessons had changed over time, but Spike still needed a boot of wisdom now, as he had back then. Perhaps, a different kind of knowledge, but the kind THIS Angel was willing to share, this time around.

Angel's eyes were full of pity. "Be careful, William. What you're getting into? It WILL destroy you when you have to give it up. And you know you'd have to, one day."

And true to form, Angel watched as everything he said went in one ear and out the other. Spike just snorted in response as he stood up. "Can't lose what you never had, Cream Puff." He paused, debating whether to elaborate on that, but ultimately deciding that his time talking with his family was done. "'m gonna go get Buffy now, so she can clear herself up in your eyes, wash away your lil fears that she's hooked up with another demon. Girl's got a right to defend her good name. You stay here. Brood for a bit. Yank out whatever's gotten shoved up your arse, or work out your frustrations on the punchin' bag. Somethin', I don't care what. But when she comes in and talks to you, you respect the lady. She's not the same girl she was when you off'n robbed the cradle four years past, grandpapa. You give her her dues, you hear?" He narrowed his eyes at his elder. "And if you make her cry, I WILL kill you."

Spike whirled and strode out without a backwards glance.