Chapter 9:

"SPIKE!" Buffy yelled for the tenth time. This was ridiculous. He was probably just faking being asleep. I should just stake him and leave, she thought.

She couldn't bring herself to do that. It didn't help that his face was all bloody and he looked like he'd been in a hell of a fight. It seemed wrong after everything to kill him in his sleep. He at least deserved to know who killed him.

When did I start thinking of it as killing, Buffy wondered. He's a vampire, he's already dead. I staked a dozen of his buddies already tonight, not to mention the hundreds I've staked the last four years. It's not killing, it's slaying.

Having settled the issue with herself, she decided it was time to take drastic measures. She grabbed one of the candles from next to the bed and threw it at him.

He jerked away with a start, then he groaned in pain, clutching his sides. For a moment golden eyes starred up at her, then he shook off his vampire face, and leaned back on the bed carefully.

"What the bloody hell was that for?"

"I was trying to wake you up. I've been yelling at you forever. Can you sleep through anything?"

"I've had a long day Slayer, saving your ass I might add, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep."

For a moment Buffy felt bad, he really did look awful. But then she reminded herself why she was here.

"I can't let you do that Spike, I have to kill you now."

Spike laughed. "Aren't you just the femme fatal. Figures, after all you did in Angel after you slept with him. Got a regular black widow thing going don't you Slayer?"

"What?" Buffy was horrified, "You're nothing like Angel. This is so totally different. You. . . You raped me."

"Well, I won't argue about being nothing like Angel. In fact that's the best complement I've had in a while, not counting the things you said to me last night. But please, rape, Slayer? I didn't do anything to you that you didn't ask me to."

That stumped Buffy for a moment, then she smiled triumphantly, "I never asked you to go down on me."

"Yes, that's how I go about raping women, I give them mind blowing orgasms. Do you even know what the word rape means?"

"It doesn't matter if I enjoyed it, which I DID NOT," she added as she saw him start to smile, "I was under the influence of powerful mojo and you took advantage of me."

"Look, I didn't cover you in demon spit did I?" he asked exasperated.

"You are a demon! So yeah, technically you did."

"That's not what I meant. My point is that I wasn't responsible for your state. I didn't even know about it until I had to flee from my place of residence thanks to your boyfriend. Did you see the upstairs. You tell Captain Cardboard he owes me a new tele."

"Oh please. He's not buying a TV for a pile of dust," Buffy raised the stake. She needed to end this before he confused her even more.

Spike shrank back in the bed, then he cried out "Are you my victim?"

"What?" she asked, lowering the stake.

He regained his composure, "You say I raped you right? So that makes me the rapist, and you the victim. Cause you know, if I'm going to go, at least I can go knowing that I made Buffy Summers my victim."

"I will never be your victim," Buffy said, her voice cold.

"Then I didn't rape you. You can't have it both ways. Do you feel like a victim Slayer?"

"No."

"That's right. Because you weren't. Trust me, Slayer, if I'd raped you, there wouldn't be a doubt in your mind. You'd know." Buffy was starting to be unsure. "But rape's not your word is it. It's Finn's. I heard him say it before. That's just what he wants you to believe. He wants you to be the victim, not me Slayer."

"That's ridiculous." She hated it when Spike did this. She knew he was just being evil. It was like when he'd almost destroyed her friendships with Willow, Xander, and Giles. Spike was an expert in turning half truths into weapons.

Spike had gotten off the bed, he stood to one side of her speaking softly in her ear, "Is it Slayer? The real question here is, who was in my bed last night? No one had taken over your body had they? You were making decisions weren't you? Maybe not the same ones you'd normal make, but if you'd run into Giles last night, would you have tried to shag him?"

Buffy's head was spinning. The things Spike said actually made some sense. Well not the icky image of her and Giles. Where did Spike get this stuff?

He was moving about her, circling her. " I didn't proposition you, you came on to me. Who made the decisions last night? Who was in charge? Your boyfriend says you were raped, says you were the victim. And I bet he's noble enough not to hold it against you. I bet you said that you were sorry, and he accepted your apology. That was awfully big of him wasn't it. Tell me Buffy, if I raped you, what do you have to apologize for?"

That was it, she couldn't take it any more. Her emotions were still too mixed up. She started to cry. Why couldn't everything be simple again. She knew that her friends had helped her by giving her the antidote, they had saved her life. And yet life had been so easy this afternoon. Not confusing like it was now.

"I'm sorry luv, I didn't mean. Shh, I'm sorry." She felt Spike's arms curl around her and pull her tight against his chest. She wanted to pull away, to get away from him, he was the one doing this to her. Confusing her.

All she could do though was gasp between sobs, "Go away, please why won't you just go away?"

But he didn't leave, he didn't let go. She knew she could break his hold, there was nothing he could do to stop her. And yet she couldn't find the will to do so, even if she hated him for what he had said.

He lifted her up off the floor. She could actually hear his ribs cracking as he did so. Then he lay her gently down on the bed, whispering comforting words to her the whole time. He let go of her and pulled the covers up around her.

"Sleep now pet, and forget all about the stupid things vampires say. None of it means anything. I'll just be over here."

"No," she said, catching his hand as he pulled away. She offered no explanation. She just pulled him down onto the bed with her, and wrapped herself back up in his arms. She didn't know why she did it herself, except that for the first time since Willow's antidote she felt safe.

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

To his amazement Buffy fell asleep in his arms. It was terrifying to hold her like that. To be allowed to comfort her. To want to comfort her.

He looked at her sleeping form and thought how strong and serene she was. So silent, strong and serene.

Fuck. Alliteration. That could only lead to pentameter, which would inevitably turn into quatrains. He had to face the ugly truth. It was nothing he'd looked for, nothing he wanted, nothing he understood, but he was falling in love with the Slayer.

Chapter 10:

For the second time in two days, Buffy Summers found herself walking home from Spike's crypt in the early morning. This time she'd woken him up before she left. As his eyes had opened and looked at her, she had simply said, "This can't happen again," and left.

However, strange as it seemed, she felt calm. Like herself again, or as much like herself as she could ever be. A good nights sleep had worked wonders on her emotions. If she had dreamed, she didn't know what those dreams had been, but her subconscious seemed to have busily been tidying itself up.

Not that she had any idea what was going on. She was trying hard not to think about it. She had more important things to think about than Spike. Like Riley, whose truck was parked outside of her house. Crap thought Buffy. Oh well, have to do this sooner or later.

Inside she found him sitting with her mom in the living room.

"Buffy, thank god you're okay," her Mom said, hugging her.

"Yeah I'm fine. Sorry didn't mean to worry you again."

"Then everything went okay last night?" Riley asked.

"A couple big fights, nothing I couldn't handle. I did let some of them get away though. Spread the word, you know. The Slayer's back to full strength."

"How are you feeling Buffy?" her mom asked, "Riley told me about the demon poison."

Oh boy, thought Buffy. Well at least Riley won't have told her about Spike.

"I was still a little out of it last night, but a good nights sleep. . ." Crap thought Buffy. So much for regaining control over my mouth.

"What do you mean? Where did you sleep?" Riley asked.

Here it comes, thought Buffy. This isn't going to be pretty. "Um Mom, could Riley and I. . ?"

"I've got some errands to run, I'll be back later," her mom said as she made a hasty exit.

"I was at Spike's. But nothing happened," she added hurriedly, "It was just sleep."

"So you were tired after fighting and staking Spike, so you just slept there?" Riley asked. From his tone of voice it didn't sound like he really believed it.

"I didn't stake Spike. But the worn out from the fighting part is correct," she added hopefully.

"Buffy! How could you, after what he-"

"He didn't do anything to me Riley. At least nothing, and believe me I hate to say this, nothing I didn't ask for. I wasn't in my right mind, okay, granted. But, it WAS me. I can't blame Spike for what I did. The Charcoal Demon maybe, but not Spike. It's creepy, it's icky, and I wish it wasn't true, but that was me yesterday. Not all of me maybe, but still me."

"So what now you and Spike-"

"There is no me and Spike. It happened, okay. But it didn't mean anything. Hello? This is Spike we're talking about. He hates me as much as I hate him. It was a one time thing. And it hurt you I know. You have every right to be mad at me. It's just. . . Riley, I can't. . . right now I don't know what our relationship is. I need time to think, and if that means. . . if that's not good enough for you I understand."

"So you're dumping me?"

"I don't want to. I want to make it work, I just can't be relationship Buffy right now."

"That's just great. Do you know what I gave up for you? My job, my career, everything I believed in."

"I thought you gave up the Initiative because it was the right thing to do. If you did it for me. . ."

"The right thing? Not everyone believes the government is evil. Do you know how lucky you are. All the stuff you take for granted because soldiers-"

"This isn't about patriotism. And what about the stuff you take for granted? Hello, world not sucked into hell because I killed my last boyfriend. And did anyone ever thank me? So you gave up a job you liked for me? I never asked you to do it for us, I never even asked, but if I had it would have been because what the Initiative was doing was wrong. If you did it for me, then go back. Because you're not cut out for this life."

"I'm not cut out for it? You're the one sleeping with the enemy. And I don't just mean Spike. I could overlook Angel. I don't know how much I buy into this whole soul crap, but I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But now you tell me that sex with vampires is just a thing you have?"

"It's not a thing. Look, Spike was a big huge aberration. I'm not sure why it happened, but I can't just start blaming my actions on others. I'm the Slayer, I have to be responsible."

"The Slayer. It's amazing. You use that as an excuse for everything. Like you can do whatever you want because of some mystical. . . what? I don't even know what you call it."

"I'm trying to take responsibility for what I did here Riley. But for some reason that doesn't work for you. I think maybe you should just go."

Chapter 11:

Carefully and quietly, Spike climbed the tree outside Buffy's room. It had been two weeks since she had slept in his crypt. The next day-to his delight-she had given Captain Cardboard the boot. Unfortunately she'd made it quite clear that that didn't mean she and Spike would be sleeping together again.

When he'd tried to talk to her about it, she'd laughed at him, and told him that, 'It was just sex,' and it would be better if they both just put it behind them. When he wouldn't let it go, she'd hit him. After a couple such encounters he'd realized that either he had to make a complete fool of himself and confess his love, or he'd have to leave her alone.

He'd chosen option number three, stalking. Over the last week he had started following her on her patrols. Watching her wherever she went. It wasn't hard - she was as regular as clockwork. Always patrolling the same areas at the same time. The sad thing was, he seemed to be the only vamp in Sunnydale who'd picked up on this.

Tonight it hadn't been vamps, though. Tonight she'd had a nasty fight with an Aabi demon. He'd been tempted to step in and give her a hand, but she'd managed the whole thing by herself - even if she did get herself covered in light blue blood when she cut off its tentacles.

That's why she'd called an early night. She was taking a shower to clean off the demon goo. It also gave Spike the chance he needed to hide himself in the tree outside her window. He'd found a spot to hide where he had a great view of the mirror on her vanity, but she wouldn't be likely to see him. Times like this having no reflection was very handy.

After half an hour or so she came back into her bedroom. She was wearing a fluffy bathrobe and was taking her hair down. He watched mesmerized as she shook out her long golden locks.

She walked over to her vanity and picked up a squat glass jar, opened it, and scooped out some blue cream. Then she turned the vanity chair around sideways, put her right foot up on it, and began slowly rubbing it into her skin. For a moment Spike nearly laughed. The cream was almost exactly the same color as the blood she'd just washed off. But then her hands started working up her leg.

He licked his lips as he watched her fingers massage the cream into her calves. Carefully, quietly, he reached down to unzip his jeans and grip his cock firmly in his hand. He wondered what sort of scent she was rubbing into herself. He imagined himself slowly kissing and nipping his way up those well-muscled legs until he came to her sex. He tried to remember the heady scent of her arousal and the way her pink lips opened up to the probing of his tongue.

Buffy's hands moved up her leg, past her knee, to her thigh. Then she moved aside her bathrobe and in the mirror he could see her hand run over the smooth flesh of her bottom as she continued to rub the cream in. He had to force himself to keep his hand moving at a slow steady pace as he stroked himself, so as not to cum before he finished watching his private show.

She switched legs then. This time when she moved aside the bathrobe he could see not only her ass, but in the mirror he could see just the faintest hint of the dark curls between her legs. That tiny tease almost sent him over the edge. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, his right hand tightened its grip on his cock, and his left hand dug into the bark of the tree.

Having finished with her legs, she turned the chair back around the proper way and sat at the vanity. Then she slipped her left arm out of the bathrobe. To Spike's disappointment, the fabric clung to the curve of her breast only barely revealing her cleavage.

She began to rub the cream onto her shoulders and chest. Then to Spike's delight her hands went lower and she cupped her breast. The robe still obstructed most of his view, but that was okay. It was enough for Spike to know her hands were caressing herself, to imagine that it was his thumb making circles around her nipple.

His own movements became more frantic. His tongue ran over his lips, licking up the drops of blood from where he'd bitten himself. In his mind the tip of his tongue was tracing her nipple. He could hear her moans as he sucked it into his mouth - her cries when he gently bit the tender flesh.

He came suddenly. He'd forgotten where he was - what he was doing - and he nearly lost his position. Cursing under his breath, he regained his footing. Not only would it have been embarrassing to fall out of the tree, there was no telling what Buffy would do to him if she caught him watching her like this.

He was especially glad that he hadn't given himself away when he looked back into her room. She had finished with her moisturizing and stood up. She moved over to her dresser and let the bathrobe fall to the floor. There she stood in all her glory. It was only a glimpse. A second later she had slipped on a nightgown.

It was really more of a slip. It was light grey, silky and clung to all her curves in a way that screamed, "Touch me." Just as he was enjoying the way it flared about her hips and the skirt brushed the skin on her thighs, she turned out the lights and got into bed.

Instinctively, he vamped. His golden eyes could make out her still form lying under the covers. For a while he just watched her, wanting desperately to go inside, lie on top of her, and pepper her with kisses - run his hands over her silken curves. But he knew she would never allow it. Finally he gave up, got down from the tree, and went off to find something to kill.

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

'Stupid vampire,' Buffy thought. 'What took him so long to leave? If he'd loitered around outside my window much longer, I'd've had to tell him to leave.'

It wasn't true of course. There was no way she was going to let Spike know how easily she could sense him, that she knew he'd been watching her this last week. 'It's all about tactics,' she told herself. 'Being able to sense exactly where he is, it's like a secret weapon.'

He could have been in a room full of vampires and Buffy was pretty sure she could have told you exactly where he was. He just felt different from the other vampires. 'Which is only because he's around so much,' she told herself. 'It has nothing to do with anything else, just like I was gonna wear my sexy nighty all along. I never even considered wearing my Yummy Sushi pajamas. Nope, not for a minute. Besides, he was watching me undress, this was much faster to put on.'

Now that she was sure Spike was gone, she allowed her legs to fall apart just a little as her hand reached between them and she started to caress herself.

Chapter 12:

A/N A big thanks to all my betas for keeping me from embarrassing mistakes, and for helping me figure out what path the story needed to take.

Willow and Tara walked hand in hand down the streets of Sunnydale on their way to Buffy's house. Ever since her encounter with the purple demon, and her break up with Riley, Buffy had been all work and no play. She'd gone patrolling every single night. The two witches had agreed that what their friend needed was some serious Bronze time.

They stopped across the street from Revello Drive, seeing the headlights of a car coming. There were enough perils in Sunnydale without getting hit by a car, so the couple waited patiently to make sure the car had come to a stop.

When it stopped, they proceeded in front of it, not really paying any attention, until the driver of the convertible called out, "Willow?"

Willow stopped, trying to see past the headlights. She squinted and said in amazement, "Angel?"

Tara couldn't really see the man either, but she could see his aura blazing bright. The outside of it shone bright silver, but there was an inner ring that was the strange sickly yellow that Tara had learned meant vampire.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Does Buffy know you're here? Oh, have you met Tara?" Willow blurted out all at once.

Willow looked over at her girlfriend and saw the puzzled look on Tara's face.

"Tara, this is Angel, Buffy's ex."

A couple of things clicked into place in Tara's mind. Veiled references to a bad romance in Buffy's past started to make sense.

"Y-you have a s-s-soul?" Tara asked.

"I take it you've heard of me?"

"N-no,"

"Oh," Willow said with sudden understanding. "Tara's a witch, she's really good at sensing auras. I guess a vampire with a soul would have a pretty unique aura. So anyway, what's going on?"

"You're going to Buffy's, right?" Angel asked. The two girls nodded. "I know it's only another block, but why don't you get in and I'll tell you."

They all got into the front seat of Angel's car. Tara was a little nervous, not because Angel was a vampire - she could see his soul and was sure he wouldn't hurt them - but because she was afraid that he would be able to sense the demon hidden in her.

"There have been rumors all the way to L.A. about. . . I think maybe Spike's planning something," Angel told them as he started up the car.

Tara caught his slight pause, and knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. 'Rumors? What could those be?' Tara wondered. Her home town had been full of gossipers. Although she doubted demons spent much time discussing who was cheating on. . . unless of course they did. Tara's experience with demon's showed them to be much like normal people. She knew that Spike had something of a reputation, maybe a lot of demons did gossip about who he had slept with.

"I don't think you have to worry, Angel," Willow said. "The government put a chip in Spike's head. He's pretty fangless these days. I don't think he could really hurt Buffy."

Angel began to pull into the driveway at Buffy's house.

"Maybe not directly. But he could still-" Angel stopped in mid sentence. Suddenly his eyes were golden and his vampiric nature was plain to see.

He leapt from the car. His feet had barely touched the ground when he sprang up onto the tree that stood in front of the Summers' house. A moment later he came crashing down, but he wasn't alone. Another dark figure fell from the tree with him. They hit the ground together, both letting out a loud, "Oofff!"

Tara recognized the second figure instantly by his aura. Spike. Although his aura had the same sickly yellow color as that of other vampires, his aura was punctuated by a whole other set of colors that would appear and disappear like sea serpents among the waves. Whenever she could, Tara would study his aura trying to decipher it. But it always made her nervous when the vampire caught her watching him.

The two black forms struggled against each other on the ground. Suddenly there was a high pitched shriek. Angel was on his feet. The whole thing had happened almost too fast for Willow and Tara to see. They were still in Angel's car as Willow struggled with the handle of the door.

Abruptly the upstairs window was flung open and Buffy came hurtling out of it. As her bare feet hit the grass, Tara tried not to notice Buffy's black lace thong which was revealed as the skirt of her skimpy black dress flew up.

Buff landed in a fighter's stance, her stake raised and ready. "Angel?" she said mystified. "What are you doing here?" Then she saw Spike curled up on the ground in a little ball, moaning. "Spike? What did you do to him?" she asked Angel accusingly.

She dropped the stake, and knelt by the bleached vampire, tenderly running her fingers across his face. Concern was evident on her face.

"Buffy, you don't understand. He was watching you," Angel explained.

"Help me get him inside." Buffy seemed to ignore what he was saying.

Reluctantly Angel picked up Spike's legs, while Buffy lifted him under the arms. Willow opened the front door of the house, and they placed Spike on the couch.

The way Spike was gripping his groin made the nature of his injury obvious. Tara ran into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out an ice pack. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and offered them to Spike. He smiled weekly at her, and took them with one hand. As his hand moved away to grab the ice pack, Tara thought she saw a flash of flesh. She looked away blushing.

It was times like this when she thought Willow's life and friends were just a tad too. . . exciting. She was just glad that Willow hadn't seen. Not that she didn't trust her girlfriend.

Buffy had arranged the vampire on the couch so that his head was lying in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. For the hundredth time Tara wondered what it would take for the two of them to realize they were meant for each other. It was obvious to Tara by the way their aura's interacted, blending together. She had thought the encounter with the Charoite demon would do it. But they seemed to be further apart than before.

Once Buffy was satisfied that the mewling vampire had been made comfortable, she looked up at Angel and asked, "Okay, so what's the deal? Why are you in town?"

"Spike's up to something. There have been rumor's in L.A. about. . . " as Angel struggled for words Buffy's eyes grew wide.

She lightly thumped Spike on the side of the head. "You've been bragging about the. . . demon. . . thing?"

"What?" Spike muttered weakly. "No. . . vampires. After I left Giles'. . . jumped me. . . remember? One of them smelled you. . . got away."

Buffy looked skeptical. Angel looked aghast.

"Uh, Buffy, you couldn't have. I mean, this must be something else. What I heard. . . was that you had slept with Spike," Angel managed to say finally.

"It's not Buffy's fault," Willow broke in, "There was this demon. It interfered with her, um. . . she wasn't herself."

"You slept with Spike!" Angel blurted out all at once. His anger and disapproval were evident in his voice.

Buffy's eyes flashed. Any anger that she might have had toward Spike was instantly transferred to Angel.

"So what if I did? It's none of your business. And why did you have to show up in town? They have phones in L.A. I know, I used to live there."

"It's Spike. He's a vampire. And what about that other guy?"

"Riley and I broke up." Angel was obviously going to interrupt so Buffy cut him off, "It's none of your business. None of this is any of your business."

Tara and Willow exchanged looks. They were both uncomfortable being within hearing distance of this conversation, but Willow obviously felt the need to stick around to lend her friend support if she needed it.

"It's Spike," Angel repeated.

"Yeah, we've established that. Look, not my finest hour I admit, but still not your business."

"He's stalking you, Buffy. I caught him outside your window."

"He was up in the tree, Buffy," Willow concurred.

"You think I don't know when I'm being stalked?" Buffy stopped and blushed. From the expression on her face it was clear that hadn't come out the way she wanted it too. "I mean. . . I can take care of myself."

At that moment the front door opened and Joyce returned home.

"Hi I'm- Angel what are you- Spike. Oh dear, what happened?" The older Summers rushed into the living room and knelt by the couch. Joyce put her hand on Spike's forehead as if she were checking for a fever.

"Angel beat him up," Buffy said.

"I did not!" Angel insisted.

"You poor thing," Joyce said. Spike whimpered.

"He's a vampire!" Angel insisted.

"So are you and I want you out of my house." Joyce said getting up.

"But-"

"No buts. Spike is a friend of mine and I won't tolerate anyone who hurts my friends in my house. Now out."

Joyce glared at the vampire. Angel looked like he wanted to say something else, but he wilted under the stern gaze of Buffy's mom. Hanging his head he shuffled his feet out of the Summers' home.

"Now Spike, would you like some hot chocolate?" Joyce asked.

"With marshmallows?" he said hopefully.

"Of course."

Chapter 13:

If he hadn't been in so much damn pain, Spike would have been in heaven. Normally, he would have tried to tough it out, but once Buffy had started showing concern for him, he'd milked it for all it was worth.

Not that the whimpering was all faked. He'd suffered unspeakable tortures in his time- mostly at the hands of Angelus. But Angel's knee to the groin was almost more than he could take, especially considering it had been backed by a good dose of vampire strength.

Still, lying with his head in Buffy's scantily clad lap almost made up for it. It had taken everything he'd had in him not to smirk at Angel when Buffy let it slip that she'd known that he'd been watching her. He might have doubted her meaning if he hadn't been able to smell the fading aroma of her earlier arousal.

So, she got off on being watched, did she? Well, Spike was more than happy to oblige her on that front, although it might be more difficult, now that her pals knew about his continued interest in her.

Even that was nothing compared to Buffy defending him against Angel, even if he knew she did it more out of stubbornness than any conscious desire to defend him. Buffy hated nothing more than others trying to tell her how to live her life, which was ironic, since she spent most of her time seeking the approval of those around her. The poof should have remembered that before he came by and tried to meddle in her life.

Finally, there was his personal angel, Joyce. Watching her drive the older vampire out of her home had been fantastic. Now she was busy in the kitchen making him hot chocolate. With marshmallows.

Of course, Joyce presented a bit of a problem. When Angel had tackled him out of the tree, Spike had been in the middle of jerking himself off, and he hadn't had a chance to zip himself back up. Glinda had helpfully provided him with the ice and the towel, which not only soothed his swelling balls, but also helped cover himself up. It's not that he was modest, it was that he had no desire to offend Joyce, not after all the things she'd done for him.

In the mean time, he enjoyed listening to Buffy quietly rant to herself about Angel while she ran her fingers through his hair. It was all he could do not to nestle his face between her legs and start kissing her thighs.

Joyce returned with a tray laden with hot chocolate, which she set down on the coffee table. Buffy helped pull him up into more of a sitting position. He whimpered, both from the pain of overly sensitive balls rubbing against the denim of his jeans, and from the loss of contact with the silk of Buffy's skirt. The warmth of her soft skin.

Still, she kept her arms around him and he rested his head in the crook of her arm, so that his cheek was just barely brushing her left breast. Joyce handed Buffy the mug of cocoa meant for Spike, and then she lifted up his feet and placed them in her lap. Joyce began to unlace his boots.

"Just this once I'll forgive you for getting mud on my sofa. But don't do it again, Spike." Joyce teased him.

"Yes, mum," he said obediently. He kicked himself for being so inconsiderate in her house, before he remembered that he was evil and that he was supposed to be gleeful about doing things like muddying up the upholstery.

Buffy held the mug in front of him, and he blew on the hot steam rising off the chocolate. He was careful to blow it directly across her right nipple. Her body stiffened under him, and his nose was greeted to the renewed smell of her arousal.

"Spike," she said warningly.

"What?" he looked up at her innocently through his eyelashes.

She gave him a look that clearly indicated that she didn't buy the innocent act for a minute. He took the cocoa from her with his free hand, and for a few minutes they all sat there happily sipping the hot chocolate.

Joyce broke the silence, "You'll have to stay here tonight, Spike. We certainly can't expect you to walk home. You can sleep in Buffy's room and she'll sleep on the couch."

"Mom!" Buffy objected. "He can't stay in my room!"

"Why not? You're young and strong, Buffy. A night on the couch won't kill you."

"But Moooom!"

"No buts. Why don't you take the cups into the kitchen, and I'll get the guest sheets and pillows and bring them down."

Grumbling, Buffy violently grabbed Spike's mug, and put it and the others on the tray. Spike took advantage of the temporary departure of the women to zip himself back up. It was not a pleasant experience, at that moment he would have given just about anything for a pair of soft cotton boxers.

Buffy returned from the kitchen first. She came in smiling, and gave Spike a triumphant grin. Inwardly he cursed. He hoped she hadn't found a way to get out of sleeping on the couch. He was looking forward to sleeping in the Slayer's bed.

Joyce came back down the stairs carrying sheets, blankets, and pillows.

"Mom, don't you think it might be hard for Spike to walk up the stairs? Wouldn't it be easier for him to sleep downstairs?"

"I already thought of that dear," Joyce said. "But there's the big window and I'm not sure the curtains are thick enough. We wouldn't want him catching fire in the morning. Besides, you're strong. You can carry him, can't you?"

Spike wanted to laugh at the look for frustration that crossed the Slayer's face.

"It's okay, mum, I can manage to walk. . . somehow."

Joyce gave him a concerned look.

"Buffy! Help him up!" she told her daughter.

Glaring, Buffy roughly yanked Spike to his feet. The groan that escaped his lips wasn't all faked. Her rough handling of him caused everything to rub together in a painful way.

"Buffy! Apologize to Spike."

"What? I will not."

"Buffy Anne Summers! I know I raised you with better manners than that."

Buffy cringed at her mother's commanding voice, and looked down at her feet.

"I'm sorry, Spike," she said quietly.

"What was that, pet? I couldn't hear you."

"Yes you could! Hello, vampire hearing?"

"Buffy!"

"I'm sorry, Spike," she finally said.

"It's okay, pet."

He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned dramatically on her. She rolled her eyes, but she put her arm around his waist.

As soon as they started up the stairs, he bit his lips to keep from crying out. The denim scraped painfully against his swollen bits. Half way up the stairs he had to stop, his stomach was churning. He rested against the wall.

Buffy looked at him with actual concern.

"Is it really that bad?" she asked, softly.

He smiled weakly. "S'okay, pet. Just waiting for the vampire healing to kick in."

He took another moment and she helped him up the rest of the way and into her room. Gingerly he lay down on the bed while Buffy turned to get some of her things.

"So you like to be watched," Spike said in a conversational voice.

"It's just too much trouble to stake you, that's all," she said over her shoulder.

"So I suppose you don't get off on it then?"

"Please." Buffy turned to stand by the bed. "Get over yourself. Nothing about yo-"

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her over him onto the other side of the bed. Before she had time to react, one of his hands had moved up her skirt. His fingers had barely brushed her lace thong, when she let out a little gasp and reflexively her legs began to part for him.

She had placed her hands on his chest to push him away, but instead she ran them up to his shoulders and gripped them hard as his fingers found her nub. Her eyes were wide and she looked angry, but he could smell her arousal and feel her body push back at him.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw as if she was trying very hard to convince herself that she was not enjoying this. He couldn't help but smile. Cocky bint that she was, why couldn't she just accept the attraction between them. They could have spent this last week shagging like crazy, instead of on opposite sides of her window.

"Spike do you need. . ." Joyce's voice came from just outside the partially open door.

The two of them quickly broke apart, but it was apparent from Joyce's face that she had seen enough.

". . . anything else. Buffy, I've made up the couch for you, why don't you go downstairs?"

Buffy leapt off the bed, gathered up the pajamas she'd pulled out earlier, and started to leave. Just as she got to the door, she paused, and ran back to her vanity, pulled a small journal out of the top drawer, gave Spike an angry look, and ran downstairs.

"I'm, uh, fine, mum. . . Sorry?" he stammered. He felt sheepish, like he'd abused her hospitality.

"Goodnight, Spike," was all she said, although there was a hint of anger? annoyance? maybe even amusement in her voice. Spike wasn't sure.

She turned off the lights, and closed the door.

Chapter 14:

Buffy ran to the downstairs bathroom. As quickly as she could she changed into her pajamas. Then she dashed for the couch, hoping that if she got under the covers and looked fast asleep her mom would leave her alone.

She didn't quite make it in time.

"Buffy," her mother said, less angry than Buffy would have imagined. "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to. . . I didn't know you and Spike were dating."

"DATING? There is no dating. I mean mom - it's Spike!"

Suddenly her mom did look angry.

"So what exactly were you doing then?"

"We. . . um. It's not what you think. Spike's just got these ideas and . . . "

"And I didn't see you doing anything to stop him. Buffy, if you're not interested in Spike that's fine, that's your decision. But you can't lead him on like that, it's cruel. Obviously he got the idea that you might be willing somewhere."

"No, mom, see you don't understand. Remember that demon a few weeks ago? Just before Riley and me broke up? See, I wasn't afraid of stuff, so I kinda of . . . sleptwithSpike. But it doesn't count, cause of the demon fluids and stuff."

"Buffy, did you explain this all to Spike? He's so sensitive, there's no telling how he's talking all this."

"Sensitive?" What was her mom talking about, Spike was the biggest jerk in the world. "Okay, look, mom, Spike knows all about the demon, he's the one who figured out about the antidote."

"The one that Willow made?" Buffy nodded. "I thought that antidote saved your life." Her mother paused and looked her over. "Look, Buffy, would you threaten to beat someone up to do your homework for you?"

Buffy was stunned. She had no idea what had triggered the sudden conversation switch. Not that she wasn't glad for it. Discussing her non-relationship with Spike was hardly a fun time, especially with her mom. Still, she was kind of hurt that her mother would even think she could be that kind of bully.

"No, of course not, mom. That would be abusing my power. Just cause I'm the Slayer doesn't mean I'm somehow better than other people," except when it comes to fighting the forces of evil, she added to herself. The memory of the Initiative's mistakes were still fresh in her mind.

"Exactly. But Buffy, you're more than just the Slayer. You're also a very beautiful young woman." Before Buffy could interrupt her Joyce continued, "And I'm not just saying that because I'm you're mom. Buffy, that gives you power, too. You don't have any more right to bully Spike with your looks than you have the right to bully anyone else with your strength."

"Bully? Mom, I'm so not bullying him. I mean, it's not like I'm forcing him to stalk me." Buffy couldn't understand how she had become the bad guy.

"Have you tried to stop him? Have you talked to him?"

"No, but. . ."

"Buffy. I really thought you knew better than this. How would you feel if you slept with someone and then they wouldn't talk to you?"

Buffy winced. She'd never told her mother about Parker, but she still remembered how much that had hurt. It still kinda did, even though she was completely over him. It almost made her feel bad about Spike. Except, hello, Spike. Still, the more she thought about it, the worse she felt.

"So what am I supposed to do, mom? I mean, you keep missing out on the big point here. It's Spike. He hates me. It's just some weird demon obsession of his. It's not like he's in love with me."

"How do you know? Have you asked him?" her mother asked her softly.

"What? No. You can't just ask a guy that, and Spike's not even a guy. He's a vampire. It's not like he can be in love."

"Don't be ridiculous Buffy. He was in love with that. . . Drusilla woman for something like a century. I saw him when they had broken up. If that wasn't being in love, I don't know what is. And let me remind you that I have a little more experience with this kind of thing than you."

Buffy was stumped. She knew there was a way to show her mother she was wrong. She just couldn't think of it. She certainly couldn't see any reason why someone would hang around Drusilla for a hundred years if they weren't in love with her. Of course, Spike was a vampire, so there was no accounting for taste.

Spike couldn't be in love with her, he couldn't be in love with anyone. But if he was. . .

No, she wasn't going to go there. She wasn't going to think about what it would be like to have a guy that you knew wouldn't leave you. A guy who didn't care that she was stronger than him, or that she spent too much time in graveyards. A guy with a definite oral fixation, and fingers that. . .

No, she really wasn't going to think about any of that. There was no point. Spike hated her. He always had, he always would.

"Buffy, talk to him in the morning. That's all I ask. If you don't want to have anything further to do with him, that's fine. It's not my place to point out how wonderful a couple you two could make. Just make sure he knows how you feel. You'll both be better off for it. Now goodnight, and sleep well."

Her mother leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead before heading back upstairs.

Buffy's head was spinning. She'd expected her mom to be mad about her having sex with Spike because he was another vampire. She'd hated Angel. She hadn't been prepared for her mom to want her to date Spike. It was just too creepy.

Chapter 15:

A/N Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. Sorry my updates have been less frequent, I'm just really busy right now. However, the reviews do keep me writing, hint hint.

Giles poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down at his desk. There was no looming threat which mean he had time to goof off and get back to a particularly difficult passage in the Dead Sea Scrolls he'd been puzzling over for some time.

He was just looking up an unfamiliar root when someone knocked on his door.

"Oh bugger," he said under his breath, even though there was no one in the room to hear him.

There were only a few people who ever knocked on his door, especially at this time of night. No doubt the world was ending, again.

He opened the door to find Angel standing there with Willow and Tara. On the one hand he was almost delighted to have someone who was older than twenty knock on his door. On the other, Angel would only be here if there were some dire threat.

"Giles, we have to talk," Angel said, pushing his way into the flat.

Giles was particularly worried now. Although he had not revoked the invitation he'd given the vampire at Thanksgiving, usually Angel was polite enough to ask. Especially considering that Angelus had murdered his lover, Jenny, and tortured him. A fact he was not soon going to forget.

"Buffy's in trouble," Angel continued.

The two girls looked at each other, as if they thought Angel was exaggerating.

"Indeed? What seems to be the threat? And oh yes, do come in," Giles said pointedly.

"It's Spike, he's planning something. He's been stalking Buffy, obviously looking for a weakness to exploit," Angel explained.

"I d-don't think-" Tara started, but Angel turned on her, and she closed her mouth.

"Yes Tara? What is it you think?" Giles prompted kindly. Although he didn't know the young witch that Willow had taken up with very well, he had found her rather astute. Not to mention that Angel was already starting to irritate him. Try as he might, and he hadn't tried all that hard, Giles could never really forgive Angel for the monster that lurked within.

"I think," she paused, took a deep breath and then said all at once, "I think Spike's just in love with Buffy. I don't think he wants to hurt her."

Giles was amazed at the utterance, both for its content and its length. It was surely the most words he'd ever heard Tara put together.

Angel laughed. "That's ridiculous. He's a vampire."

"That fact hardly seems relevant. After all so are you, and you loved Buffy," countered Giles.

The wheels in his head were turning. Having been forced to live with him for some time, Giles felt he had a good insight to Spike's character. Despite his tough exterior Giles had realized that Spike was a romantic, as his running commentaries on Passions had proved.

At first Buffy might not have seemed to be Spike's type. Certainly not after his century long romance with the bedlamite Drusilla. But then again, Giles couldn't help but remember what he had said to Angel on their first meeting: 'A vampire in love with a Slayer, it's rather romantic, in a maudlin sort of way.'

Maudlin was indeed the perfect way to describe the blond vampire. Not that Giles believed Spike was really in love with Buffy, he was probably just in love with the idea of being in love with the Slayer. Still, he could see how Tara could mistake the two things.

"I LOVE her, but only because I have a soul. Are we forgetting that Spike doesn't have one? That he's evil?"

"Are you forgetting that he once helped Buffy stop you from ending the world?"

The two men were now standing very close to each other. All the old tensions once again alive between them.

"Okay, I think it's time we all take a step back," said Willow as she stood between the two of them.

For a moment Giles hesitated, after all it was his flat. But then he decided that he wouldn't be drawn into this childish display by Angel.

He relented. "Do you have any direct proof, Angel, that Spike is trying to kill Buffy?" he asked.

Angel opened and closed his mouth several times, but couldn't find anything to say.

"Look, I think something needs to be done about Spike," Willow interjected. "And I don't know about this love stuff. I think he's just being a peeping tom. After all, it's about the only evil thing he can do. I bet it's really frustrating having all those murderous impulses and not being able to do anything about them."

"I quite agree, Willow." Giles turned to Angel. "However, I think it would be a good idea if you were to go back to L.A." Angel started to protest, but Giles went on, "You have no business here. Spike has been rendered harmless by the government, and even if he hadn't, Buffy does not need you to save her. She's a quite capable young woman, whose life is no longer your business. In other words, you weren't invited, and you're not welcome here."

"But. . ." Angel, started. But even he couldn't find a way to justify his presence. He hung his head, and turned to go.

For a moment Giles almost felt sorry for the man. But then he remembered all the pain that Angel had put Buffy through. In some ways that seemed worse than what Angelus had done to him. He knew Angel's continued presence could only cause Buffy more pain. And what's worse, it might actually drive her into Spike's arms.

The two girls started to leave.

"Willow, Tara, would you mind staying for a bit?"

The two girls nodded, and sat down in their accustomed research chairs.

"Perhaps it would be best if you two told me exactly what happened tonight."

Suddenly a chilling thought ran through Giles' mind. Not too long ago he'd tried to reason with Spike that there might be some higher purpose in his chipped state. That he could become a champion and do some good. At the time the vampire had only laughed at him.

But twice now, mystical forces had brought Spike and Buffy together. The thought of some sort of destiny pulling the two of them together made Giles' stomach turn.

He tried to tell himself that it was ridiculous. The Initiative had been an aberration, not part of some grand scheme. But the idea kept niggling in the back of his brain and wouldn't go away.

Chapter 16:

Buffy was sitting in the kitchen, staring at the microwave clock. It was 11:14 and that stupid vampire wasn't up yet. All Buffy wanted was to get some clean clothes and to take a shower, but no, she couldn't go into her own room.

'That's it,' she thought. 'I don't care if I do wake him up. It's not like he's sick and needs his rest.'

Boldly, she marched up the stairs, down the hall, opened the door of her room, and froze.

Spike was lying asleep on her bed, naked. He had thrown off the blankets, and the sheet hung around his waist. She couldn't help but run her eyes down his chest to the place where the sheet was tented.

Only last night, seeing him like that, Buffy would have been filled with lusty thoughts. Sure the lust was there, but after her weird conversation with her mom a kind of longing filled her. She missed going to bed with someone, and waking up in their arms in the morning. Having someone to share stuff with, in that special boyfriendly way. That feeling of being loved, of knowing that someone considered you special.

None of which were things she would ever get from Spike. Unlike sexual fantasies of Spike - which Buffy believed were perfectly harmless, if somewhat disturbing - boyfriend fantasies of him could serve her no good.

It was like a little light-bulb really did go off in her head. Suddenly Buffy knew how to solve all her problems concerning Spike. In fact, if she was lucky, and her record held, he'd end up leaving town.

"Spike!" she called as she sat down on the edge of the bed and shook him.

"Huh? What?" he said as he slowly woke up.

As his eyes opened and focused, he saw her, and he smiled.

"Morning pet, need something?" before she could answer he had wrapped his arms around her, and rolled her across him and onto her back. Then his mouth was on hers.

She forgot all her plans, and just gave in to the kissing. Her hands roamed all over the hard plains of his body.

When she broke off the kissing to breathe, he whispered in her ear, "So beautiful, my Buffy."

For a moment his compliment and his possessiveness warmed her. Then she came to, and shoved him off of her. He went tumbling to the floor.

"This won't work."

"What's wrong, luv?" he said, mystified. She almost thought she saw hurt in his eyes.

"I'm not your love. Look, we can't do this."

"Why not? You want me. I want you. It's pretty simple."

"No, it's not. Spike, this isn't what I want. Sex, it's not enough. I want a real a boyfriend, a real relationship."

He picked himself up off the floor. "So you what? Want to date?"

"Exactly, I want a real boyfriend."

"So you want me to take you on a date. . ."

Buffy smiled and nodded. It was working. There was no way Spike would consent to this. It was obvious he thought the whole idea was absurd. Besides, Spike on a date?

"Right. Tomorrow night at seven sound good?"

"What?" Buffy couldn't believe it. This couldn't be happening. "You understand I mean a real date right?"

"Yeah, I know the drill. Flowers, nice restaurant all that."

"And I'm not sleeping with you, cause it's a first date, and I never sleep with people on the first date. We may not even kiss."

"No, you just sleep with blokes you run across in graveyards."

She hit him square in the nose and sent him tumbling back to the floor.

"That doesn't count. Demon influence, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember when you weren't too scared to live your life, take what you want, be yourself."

"Would you just. . . put some clothes on. I can't fight you when you're naked."

"Cause you'd rather be doing other things," he said, as he put his hands on either side of her legs.

She clamped her legs shut, before he could do anything to her, or realize how much the sight of him on his knees in front of her like that turned her on.

"Boyfriend, real date, remember?"

"Right, well, you never answered me. Tomorrow night at seven. That work for you?"

"Umm, well, I guess."

This wasn't turning out right. He was supposed to run in terror, not take her out. Still, it was bound to be a disaster and that was good. She was sure Spike's idea of a date would be a miserable experience. That would make it easy for her to break things off with him.

She grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the shower. She needed to escape from Spike's confusing behavior. By the time she got out of the shower, he'd stolen one of her blankets and left the house.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

After Buffy left, Spike had tried to go back to sleep. The thought of a real date with Buffy kept him up. Not that it was exactly what he was interested in, but still, if she was willing to go out with him, it meant he had some kind of chance.

On the other hand, she'd seemed kind of reluctant. Maybe she'd thought he'd never agree to such a thing. It half surprised him that he had. Which meant he had to impress her. Go all out. And since she obviously expected a 'normal' human date, that meant money. Which was a problem.

If she were a demon, he could have easily taken her out- showed her a proper night on the town. Chip or no chip, there were still enough demon's that owed him favors, and his reputation still opened doors for him in the underworld. It was obvious, though, that that wouldn't do for Buffy.

There was only one thing to do. If he left now, he could get to his car and make it to L.A. by late afternoon. He could be back again by sometime this evening. That would still give him time to catch up on his sleep, and get ready for tomorrow night.

It wasn't a plan he especially liked. Was Buffy really worth it? He picked his duster up off the floor, and reached into the pocket to pull out the pair of her panties he'd nicked during the night. Yeah, she was worth it.

He threw on his clothes, grabbed a blanket, and left the Summers' house. Not only would he be able to get enough money to take Buffy out for an incredible evening on the town, he'd also be able to get something for Joyce. He'd figured out last night exactly how to pay her back for all she'd done for him.

All he'd have to do was drive to L.A. and face his lawyers, not a pleasant prospect. As he got in his DeSoto, he couldn't help but wonder why a firm like Wolfram & Hart didn't have an office on the Hellmouth.

Chapter 17:

A/N My updates are likely to become a lot less frequent these next couple weeks. Not only am I really busy, but last night my laptop died, and it’ll probably be a couple weeks before it’s fixed. Sorry.

Cursing, Spike wandered through the halls of Wolfram & Hart. He should have been happier. He had more than enough money to take Buffy out, and Accounting had offered to set him up with an account in Sunnydale so he would have ready access to his money if he needed more. He'd also raided his safety deposit box to get a gift for Joyce. Having an inter-dimensional law-firm handle his interests was handy. It meant that he could access the same box from any of their branches, in this realm or any other.

Still, the place made his stomach turn. The L.A. branch was sterile, very unlike the distinguished offices in London. But the lawyers were more or less the same. Humans running hither and thither trying to accumulate power at any cost.

Not to mention the idea of the place brought back unpleasant memories from his mortal life. Memories that he should have been able to shake.

The lift couldn't get to the underground garage quick enough for him. And yet the damned thing seemed determined to stop on every floor. At least now he was the only one on the thing. Maybe no one else would get on.

No sooner had he thought it, when the lift stopped again, the doors opened and two women and a man entered. Spike's eyes went wide. All of his senses told him that all three of them were normal humans, but the woman in the center he recognized. He would have known her anywhere. Even her scent, although it was now human, was the same. Darla.

The man glared at him and said, "Would you like to take a picture? It would last longer."

Spike nearly laughed at the man's protectiveness. First of all, he had only one arm, the other was artificial. Secondly, the idea of anyone defending Darla was laughable. And yet she seemed to be human, which would have been strange enough if she wasn't also supposed to be dust.

"You know, Lindsey, you really should do your own research from time to time," the other woman said. "Do you prefer Spike or William the Bloody?" she asked him.

Spike turned his attention to the woman who had just spoken and wondered that he hadn't noticed her more when she'd entered. She was a tall, beautiful brunette that dripped of power, ambition, and confidence. Very much his type.

He gave her his best sexy smile. "Spike'll do just fine. And you are. . ?"

"Lilah Morgan, Special Projects. I do hope we can count on you not to tell anyone about our friend here?"

"Oh, I don't think Spike will tell. You wouldn't want to spoil Angel's surprise, now would you?" the woman who looked like Darla said.

If Spike had had any doubts as to who she was, they were gone when she spoke. Only Darla could promise pain and torment in that sweet smiling manner.

"Don't suppose you'd run him through with a hot poker for me?" Spike asked her.

"You always were such a sweet boy," Darla said. Inwardly Spike flinched, he hated it when she called him that. "I'll see what I can do."

The doors to the lift opened and they started to leave.

"Don't worry. Mum's the word, Grand-mum," he told her.

She spun around and glared at him. Even when the doors to the lift had closed, he could still feel her eyes boring into him.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Buffy, you're not going to wear that are you?" her mother asked.

Buffy looked down at her clothing. She was wearing jeans and a tank-top with a white button down shirt that wasn't buttoned.

"Why not, mom?"

"Shouldn't you dress up for your date?"

"Mom, it's Spike. If he's going to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt, I don't see why I should dress up. Besides, he'll probably take me to some run down demon bar, and end up getting me in a fight. Oh, maybe you're right. Maybe I should wear something that the blood stains will come out of more easily."

Joyce sighed and gave up. Obviously her daughter was not going to take this seriously. She couldn't help but wonder how Buffy could misunderstand Spike so thoroughly. But then Buffy had always been something of a mystery. All of Joyce's hopes that after high school she would start to understand her daughter better, had been dashed.

At a quarter to seven the doorbell rang. Buffy looked up from the magazine she was reading on the couch.

"We have a doorbell? Who knew?" she joked as she got up to answer the door.

Joyce was in the kitchen, and she heard Spike say, "Hello, pet. Sorry I'm early."

"Spike. I, um, yeah, I'm not ready yet, I'll be down in a second," Buffy stammered. Joyce herd clumping as her daughter ran upstairs.

In an attempt to make up for her daughter’s lack of manners, Joyce went to properly greet Spike. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had more faith in Spike than Buffy had, but still she wasn't prepared for what she saw.

Instead of a black t-shirt, he wore a dark blue, button-down, silk shirt which brought out the color of his eyes. His jeans and duster had been replaced by a pair of dress pants, and a suit jacket. Their color was somewhere between a light black and a dark grey, and the fabric had just a slight sheen to it. He even wore a tie, which was a dull yellow with black diagonal stripes. Had she seen that tie in a store, Joyce would have wondered who would wear such an awful thing. And yet, it added just the right amount of color to his outfit and was just bold enough to make the outfit fit Spike.

In fact, it wasn't so much the stylishness of the suit that made Spike look good. It was how comfortable he looked in it. As if he wore that sort of thing everyday. His attitude, the way he stood, made it seem as if this was just him.

In one hand he held a dozen red roses, and in the other, what seemed to be a poster. Joyce smiled at him and said, "Let me find a vase for those."

She took the roses to the kitchen and put them in a vase of fresh water. She sighed, trying to remember the last time anyone had brought her flowers. She carried them back to the living room and placed them on the mantle.

"Joyce, I wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day, and.. . well… just in general." He handed her the poster in his hand.

Surprised by his gesture she took it from him, noticing with her curator's eye that it was not a not a modern poster, but rather an older lithograph. As she unrolled it, her eyes went wide. In large red block letters at the top it read ‘Moulin Rouge’. Underneath danced a blond woman with her leg kicked high into the air as her skirt spun around her. ‘La Goulue.’

"Where did you get this?" she asked, examining the paper and the ink. It seemed to be authentic.

"Off a wall in Paris," he replied, with a cocky smile on his face.

"Oh Spike, it's wonderful. I'll have to get it framed right away."

"Something else I wanted to show you," he said reaching into his jacket pocket.

He pulled out a small frame which held a napkin in it. On the napkin was a portrait of a young man. Straight away Joyce noticed the artists work. Although she had never seen the piece before, if it wasn't Toulouse-Lautrec, it was a damn good imitation. Joyce gasped as she stopped analyzing the line drawing, and took a look at the actual picture. There was no mistaking those cheekbones, it was Spike.

"You're not saying you knew Toulouse-Lautrec?"

"’Course I did. Darla, Angelus, Dru and I used to go to the Moulin Rouge all the time, till Dru ate one of the dancers."

Fascinated, if a little unsettled, Joyce sat down with Spike to talk about the artistic life of Paris in the 1890's.