The bed was covered with a plastic tablecloth. It had seen far too much blood already and two children, blood and ice cream do not make for neatness.

Buffy sat across from Spike, drizzling warm blood over his bowl of ice cream. Because his dominant hand was incapacitated, she fed him the gloppy concoction spoonful by messy spoonful, being careful not to mix her own bowl with his.

Like a proud pair of doting parents, Giles and Tara watched the scene unfolding before them. Though well pleased, they had to admit this was the most surreal thing either of them had ever seen.

“Gods, Giles. I’ve never seen either one of them so happy. And while I always felt that Spike was a little different from other vampires,” Tara said quietly, “I never thought he would be such a sweet, unassuming little boy.”

“I had my own theories of William the Bloody being an incorrigible ruffian, made worse by becoming a vampire. Tara, this child is practically genteel. Although I suppose it makes sense. In Victorian England, children were brought up to be miniature adults; absolute mirrors of their parents. His manners are impeccable for a child his age – at least when he’s dealing with his elders.”

Giggles from the bed, Giles and Tara took one more look. Spike was opening his mouth like a baby bird, waiting for Buffy to shovel in spoonfuls of that god-awful mixture of blood and ice cream. Sometimes all of it made its way into his mouth. More giggles bubbled forth when it didn’t. Oh well, that’s what washcloths and soap were made for.

Leaving the children to their own devices, the adults made their way down the stairs to the couch. As they sat on opposite ends of the couch, Giles shook his head in amazement. He was going to have to keep a careful record of this little adventure. Hopefully Spike would be willing to talk with him once it was over. Perhaps if he offered the vampire an allotment of blood... he’d just have to hope Spike would cooperate.

“I can only imagine what his life… unlife must have been like when he was turned – what must have happened to him to turn him into a cold-blooded killer.” Tara looked visibly upset, and Giles suspected she was remembering her struggles with her own family. “Imagine a sensitive young man with his only companions an insane seer and a pair of psychopathic bullies.”

Giles rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know how those blasted fools at the Council considered their vampiric profiles complete. With Angelus and Darla as ‘parents,’ the only way for William to survive was to become as bloodthirsty and dangerous as they were.”

“S-so all those times we thought Spike was faking being nice; when Xander would say he was just trying to get into Buffy’s… um… good graces; he really was trying to help?”

“He came to us after he’d first been chipped – when his hunger made him desperate – and asked for help over two years ago, not knowing if he’d receive a stake through the heart for his troubles. And I never looked past the demon I chained up in my tub.”

“Remember when Spike popped me in the nose? To prove I wasn’t a demon? He’d been a demon for over a hundred and twenty years and didn’t even hit me hard enough for my nose to bleed.”

Giles removed his glasses, cleaning them with the edges of his untucked shirt. “And the time Ethan turned me into a Fyarl… Spike helped, albeit after demanding cash.” His brow creased as he remembered what followed. “Blast… when he had that tracer from the Initiative lodged in his shoulder… I demanded that he repay me before removing it. I suppose I was being rather petty about it. After all, I wouldn’t ask for any reimbursement from anyone else in need of help.”

“So what we’re both saying in a roundabout way,” Tara paused, smiling, so softly and sweetly that the elder man couldn’t help but feel warmed, “is that we feel really bad about treating a vampire – this vampire – like the rest of his species, when he was trying to be more than just a demon.”

“That would be the crux of the matter, indeed,” Giles agreed. “The question becomes: what can we do about it now? It’s rather easy to treat little Spike well… just looking at him makes you want to protect him. What do we do when he’s back to… well, as normal as Spike ever was?”

Tara cocked her head. “I think the more important question is how can we protect him until he gets back to normal? I have to undo whatever spell it is that Willow’s cast, and we have to keep him away from Xander… or diffuse Xander’s anger.”

“Do you know which spell she cast?”

“N-no. I’ll have to talk to her… find out what she used and if she’d changed it in any way from the original. I don’t want to make it worse. There’s just too much magick surrounding Spike as it is.”

As he pondered their predicament, Giles came to a conclusion. They were going to have to face both Willow and Xander and have a mini-intervention to put everyone on the same page.

He nodded in decision. “Well, we can’t keep Spike all wrapped up in cotton batting on the closet shelf until he changes back. It could be weeks, or God forbid, permanent. We must get that spell reversed as quickly as possible. He certainly doesn’t need to be hurt anymore, the poor child.”

“Would you mind going over to the house and making sure they both show up for… erm… a Scooby meeting? Perhaps we can keep them both calm until the last possible moment.”

Tara agreed, and left, hoping to find both Willow and Xander at Buffy’s home.

Giles went upstairs, first stopping in the bathroom for a basin of warm soapy water and a couple of washcloths. When he walked into the guestroom he was very pleased.

Blood, juice and ice cream had been consumed and the empty bowls and mugs were arranged neatly on the tablecloth, as were two docile children. They were, however, a very sticky mess. Two faces and three hands were covered with the remains of their snack, and their clothing was a complete disaster. Giles did bless the fact that their WalMart shopping spree had yielded enough clothing for a quick change.

When the dishes and mugs were in the sink, and the children once again playing calmly in the bedroom, Giles closeted himself in his own room and, with not a little trepidation, dialed Angel’s number.

“Hello? Is that – yes. Sorry to have to disturb you, Angel… but we’ve had a little incident I need to discuss. It seems that Willow has taken into her head that Spike is a threat to everyone now that the chip is gone, and bespelled him. An anti-violence spell of some sort. Unfortunately, it’s not very discriminating in what constitutes violence, much like that blasted chip.”

Angel’s growling reverberated through the receiver, making Giles’ hand tingle. “What happened to the boy, Giles? Spit it out already.”

“During a spirited game of ‘destroy as many of Giles’ nice furnishings as possible,’ Buffy knocked over and shattered a lamp. Spike went to push her out of the way of the shards, and apparently the spell kicked in, keeping them separated and breaking his left wrist.” He hastened to add, “He’s fine, Angel. I set the bones and splinted the wrist. Tara is with me. She’s left Willow over this incident.”

Complete and utter silence.

“A-Angel, did you hear me? I said, Spike is fine. The boy’s in good spirits and Buffy is keeping him occupied.”

Giles could have sworn he heard the man mumble “Fucking humans.”

“I promise you, Angel… the children are both fine. They are safe. We are going to have an intervention of sorts this evening, to diffuse the Willow situation and hopefully get the spell removed. And to make sure that Xander doesn’t do anything rash, considering I am sure he now knows about the chip, as well.”

“Don’t let them down, Giles.” Was all the Watcher heard before the receiver slammed down on the other end.

***

Tara returned to the house around four in the afternoon, with a promise that Xander and Willow would arrive at seven. That left plenty of time for a little play with the kiddies and a good, solid dinner to fortify them all for the upcoming confrontation.

The door opened promptly at seven. “So, G-man… what’s the big ugly you need our help with?” Xander waltzed in, full of bravado… as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Willow followed silently, close behind.

“Would you have a seat, please?” Giles was determined to keep this meeting civil. He’d known these children so long they were as much family to him as Buffy. It didn’t mean he was blind to their shortcomings.

“I have to assume we all know about Spike’s condition, and that some of you are less than comfortable about it.”

Xander snorted. “Yeah, no use beating around the bush, is there? Will told me about demon boy being fanged again, and that she took steps to protect her friends. Usage of magic? Not so good… but I can’t fault her for wanting to keep everyone safe.”

“I-I was just worried, Giles. We don’t have a clue as to when he’ll revert to the Big Bad!” Willow had resorted to whining her justifications for her actions. “And I didn’t hurt him, honest. It was a simple spell… non-invasive. It just used a minor chant and an article of clothing. I wouldn’t hurt a little boy on purpose. You know I wouldn’t.”

There was a pounding on the door before anyone could respond to Willow’s declarations.

“Are you expecting anyone, Giles?” Tara asked, as she went to open the door.

Giles sighed. “Everyone we know is already here. Be careful to stay out of reach of the barrier in case it’s a vampire.”

It was – one who had complete access to the house. The Angel who showed up at Giles’ front door was not the same man that had left the day before. Stone faced, there was no hint of the compassionate grandpa cuddling his childe. This was an avenging angel, out for blood.

Tara quickly stepped away from the door, allowing the vampire entrance.

“Where are the children?” he growled, not bothering with civilities. Those in his good graces knew who they were, anyway.

Before anybody could answer, Buffy appeared at the top of the steps. “Mister Grandpa Angel! He said it was you! Come and see Spike’s broked arm!”

Willow’s eyes widened at the mention of the little vampire’s injury. Obviously he had tried to hurt somebody, and if that were the case, why was Buffy still allowed to be in his presence?

Angel, vamped out; yellow eyes flashing and fangs bared, reached the little girl preternaturally quickly and scooped her into his arms. “Buffy, this is very important. You go into your room, close the door, and no matter what you hear, make sure you and William stay inside. Do you understand?”

With no fear showing on her face at all, the little girl threw her arms around the vampire’s neck and whispered, “We’ll be good, Mister Grandpa Angel.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, put her down and shooed her into the guestroom, waiting until the door clicked shut before heading towards the stairs.

The door opened barely a second later; a little head popping out to ask, “Can I go to the bathroom if I have to?”

“Only if you have to, little one. Now get back inside.” Angel turned and stalked down the stairs, not waiting for the click of the door this time.

By the time he reached the bottom step, he’d shaken off his gameface, once more glowering at everybody with angry brown eyes. He was immediately confronted by Giles.

“Come now, Angel. Was that really necessary? You could have scared the dear child to death.”

“Tell me, Giles… did Buffy look scared to you? She’s pretty swift on the uptake for a five year old, and I’m sure she can tell her friends from her enemies. Let me guess…” Angel turned swiftly and walked over to the couch, staring directly at Xander. “She didn’t take too kindly to you, did she?”

It gave Angel just a touch of satisfaction to see the wince on Xander’s face as his barb hit the mark. The kid had been bigoted and closed-minded since they first met. “Always knew Buffy had innate taste. You have to like a girl with good taste in men.”

“Yeah. That’s why she’s no longer going out with you,” the younger man mulishly retorted.

Angel ignored the remark, his attention already focused on the little redhead.

“Willow… I’m crushed.” Clutching his hand to his chest, the vampire wore a look of distress. “I thought we were friends. I mean, after our little discussion in the kitchen earlier, I was sure you understood how harmless the boy is. How could you set more magicks in place around a vampire already drenched in it? ”

Okay, she knew people – Tara – would disapprove. It’s why she had done the spell in secret, after all. But it was such a simple spell, Willow thought, trying to justify it to herself. Only meant to be defensive. Angel had no right to talk down to her like she were a little child. Hadn’t Giles’ dressing down been more than enough?

Her anger fueled a little false bravado. “Look, Angel. I’m sorry he got hurt. But if he hadn’t’ve tried to hurt someone, nothing would have happened.”

“You’re so sure you did the right thing,” Angel fumed. “Do you have any idea just how Spike’s wrist broke?”

“I-I’m sure he tried to hurt someone… it’s the only way the spell would have kicked in,” Willow insisted.

Tara’s anger had reached it’s limits. She strode past Angel and smacked her lover across the face. “I don’t believe you, Willow! You still don’t understand. There are things beyond your control. Things that should remain beyond your control.

“Spike did nothing wrong. In fact, he was trying to save Buffy from cutting herself on pieces of a broken lamp. Thanks to you,” she cried, “he couldn’t get close enough to push her out of the way. It was your spell that broke his wrist, Willow. You caused that little boy so much pain because you were afraid.”

Gently moving Tara aside, Angel continued his own verbal attack on the redhead. “You know, I’ve killed people for even looking at my family the wrong way. Of course, I didn’t have a soul then,” he sneered. “You should know I’ve got one now – you’re the one responsible for giving it to me the second time around. But I’m thinking it could stand a little tarnishing in defense of my boy. If I ever catch you pointing your magicks in a harmful way towards Spike again, I’ll personally take you out… redemption be damned.”

Xander was incensed at the vampire’s treatment of his best friend. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Deadboy? Willow was thinking of her friends, and the rest of the population… that’s all. When not-so-fangless is back to normal, he’ll be terrorizing the populace again, chowing down on necks like Ozzy Osbourne!”

“Who do I think I am, you snot-nosed little bastard? I am Angelus of Aurelius, Childe of Darla, Sire of Drusilla and Grandsire of William. Together Spike and I comprise half of the Scourge of Europe.” Angel folded his arms across his chest and smirked as his eyes flashed with flecks of gold. “Care to continue pissing me off, boy?”

“Angel!” Giles was worried this had gone too far, and the vampire would lose control. He worried that the children would bolt downstairs at any moment, and he was terrified that Willow, or even Tara would lose control and zap him. The macho pissing contest between the two men held the promise of major violence.

The vampire turned and winked, and Giles relaxed fractionally.

Turning to Xander, he hoped to calm him down. “Xander… I understand you’re more than uncomfortable about the situation with Spike. Frankly, so was I when Angel told me he’d removed the chip. Sadly, my reaction wasn’t much different from yours.

“But I’ve watched the boy for nearly three days straight, under all different circumstances. He’s never slipped into game face in anger, or in pain – and believe me, the boy was certainly suffering from the consequences of Willow’s spell. Accelerated vampire healing or not, a broken wrist is most painful.

“He’s sweet and thoughtful and a delight to be around… very much the antithesis of the grown up Spike we’ve all come to know. Perhaps if we tried treating him more humanely, his softer nature would reassert itself – now that he no longer has to fight us.”

“Yeah, and when things don’t go his way,” Xander insisted, “Buffy’ll have to kill another vampire she’s gotten familiar with. Thank god she’s not in love with this one. She really hasn’t been the same since Angelus made the scene with his after pillow talk.”

What is with these people and their freaking assumptions? Not that Angel hasn’t trod down that very path before, especially concerning Spike… but this is just too much for him to bear. Grabbing Xander by the scruff of the neck, he hauled the younger man up the stairs – deeply enjoying the fear pouring off the young man.

Angel opened the door to the guestroom, shoving Xander inside. "There's your vicious un-chipped killer."

Xander’s mouth fell agape at what he saw. On the bed, the children were sleeping face to face, cuddled up tight. Spike’s injured arm was thrown around Buffy’s waist. Before he could utter a single word, Angel dragged him back out of the room and closed the door.

“Why do you have to look for trouble, Harris?” Angel snapped as he closed the door quietly behind him and shoved the younger man towards the stairs. “For the next however long it is, Spike’s more than harmless. As for when he’s back to normal – like I told Willow the other day – we can cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“And until then, I’ll be sleeping with my cross, thank you,” Xander sniped. “For a long, long time,”

As the voices on the other side of the door faded as the men walked down the stairs, Spike and Buffy finally relaxed fully into sleep, secure in the knowledge that Angel would keep them safe.

Spike awoke first, to find himself warm and cozy, snuggled up against Buffy, except… were those breasts flattened against his chest? And wait a minute. Not all toasty warm. His backside was chilly.

“Mmmm, Spike. Stop wiggling.” Buffy wriggled in a bit closer and whined, eyes closed. “You’re gonna make me hafta go pee, and I’m all comfy.”

And then they both felt it. Something firm and large, wedged in-between their bellies.

Oh shit!

“If I keep my eyes closed, do you think it’ll all go away?” Buffy pleaded, unwilling to face the reality of the situation just yet.

“I think if I open my eyes it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. You grab the blanket and get off the bed, while I yank…”

“Spike!” she squeaked.

“Naughty, naughty, Slayer! While I yank the sheet off the bed to wind around my waist.”

“Oh, please… for the love of God, don’t move… it.” Buffy flushed hot and pink. Just give me a moment to… disentangle us.” She unwound her legs from his; sucking in her gut as she backed slowly off the bed, taking the blanket with her.

Buffy only heard the slither of the sheet being removed, as she kept her eyes tightly shut until she heard: “All safely wrapped away, pet. Gotta say you look fetching in a floral quilt.”

“You’re a-a… grownup,” she stammered, the color rising in her cheeks once more. “A very grown grownup.”

“An’ you’re more’n the handful I remember from the past couple days.” Spike flashed an appreciative grin in her direction. “Tell me we both had the daftest dream, Slayer.”

“Gii-iiles!”

Seconds later, Giles ran into the bedroom, glasses askew and hair sticking up in several different directions. “Buffy, what’s… oh dear Lord! This is marvelous! When did this happen?”

Seems we woke up this way.” Looking at the shreds of clothing hanging to her body, Buffy made a face. “Looks like we really outgrew our clothes, Dad.”

Spike flexed the fingers and wrist of his left hand. Seemed they were still a bit tender, but healing well. My little growth spurt seems to have made short work of the splint, Rupert. Little more blood should finish the healing, I think.”

“You can cut that God-awful sham of an accent, Spike,” Giles smirked. “You forget I’ve been listening to the dulcet tones of Master William for the past few days.”

“S’all right, mate. Been usin’ it for more’n a hundred and twenty years. S’just who I am now.”

“And I’m the bloody Queen,” the elder man muttered under his breath, causing Spike to turn sharply in his direction.

Clutching the comforter firmly around her body, Buffy looked more and more uncomfortable. “Um, clothing would be of the good, Giles.”

“Welcome back, you two.” Tara appeared at the door, smiling. “I heard you bellow from downstairs, sweetie, and thought you might be able to use your mom’s robe.”

“I suppose I can lend you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt until we can get your clothing from Buffy’s home.” Giles ran a hand through his messy hair, attempting to make some order of things.

“Won’t do no good, Rupes. Stuff was disintegrating from the demon blood. At best it’ll be rags by now. P’raps someone’ll pay m’crypt a visit? At least it’s day, so it’s fairly safe. I’m sure you want me out of your hair already, an’ I can take a runner through the sewers once I’m dressed.”

In spite of the kindness he’d been shown as a little boy, Spike was very sure his welcome had just about run out. He wanted to be well clear of this place before he was tossed out like yesterday’s trash once more.

Buffy’s stomach clenched at the thought of Spike just… leaving. It wasn’t that she wanted him to stay, exactly, but the thought of distance between them made her uncomfortable. And that thought made her even more uncomfortable.

“I-I’ve got to… do…” she stammered, eyes darting around the room; anywhere but at Spike before she sank to the ground.

Spike was at her side before anyone else could make a move. “Buffy, pet… what’s wrong?” His hand reached out to cup her chin, tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes. “Are you in pain?”

Oh gods yes! She was in agony. The desire to reach out and bury herself in Spike’s embrace was all consuming, but how could she in front of Giles and Tara? As her grown self, they wouldn’t approve of the closeness between them, and she just couldn’t take rejection right now. She was definitely too in touch with her inner-child at the moment.

She pulled back from Spike, wincing as she saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Unwilling to be the cause of even that slight amount of pain in his eyes, Buffy reached out, grabbing for his hand before he moved away. “I’m okay, Spike. Really.” Relief flowed through her at the touch of hands. It was cool, familiar and solid. “It’s just a bit overwhelming being big again.”

“I’m sure this is confusing for you both,” Giles offered. “It’s not an everyday occurrence to switch perspectives like you have. To remember them both must be unsettling, to say the least.”

Tara looked out over their odd little group, a warmth suffusing her soul. The group dynamic was a bit different from what it had been – a Slayer, a Vampire, a Watcher and a Witch – but for the first time, she felt like a real part of things.

For the past two years, she’d been on the periphery of the Scoobies; barely acknowledged and rarely contributing. This little group held the promise of more, and she liked it.

“Hey, guys. I know there’s a lot that needs to be done, but I’m starving. How about I make everyone pancakes for breakfast?”

“Ooooh, funny shapes?” the blonds chorused.

Giles stifled a snicker. “I think several people amongst us aren’t as grown up as they thought.”

Spike stiffened, unsure he had heard correctly. “Did you just call me a ‘person,’ Watcher?”

“There’s always a first time for everything, Spike. Would you prefer I revert to my standard form of address for you?”

“N-no, ‘course not. Just wanted to be sure m’hearing you right.” He knew he should leave it alone… just accept the kindness for the fluke it had to be, but being Spike he forged ahead. “Rupert, why the bloody hell haven’t you thrown me out? I can understand you wantin’ to take care of a little one, but I’m back to m’self.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t be willing to accept the fact that it’s daylight out and you’re practically starkers and make it easy on me, would you?”

“Not on a bet,” the vampire snorted. “You’ve tossed me out of the Magic Box to burn instead of lettin’ me use the sewer exit.”

“Very well. The past few days interacting with your younger self have proven quite enlightening, in regards to both you and I.” Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the oncoming headache. “Let’s just say I wasn’t so pleased with some of the things I found out about myself. We’ll discuss it in further detail later, I promise you. Right now, I’d much prefer a calm and peaceful breakfast. Are you game?”

Looking at Buffy and Tara, Spike cocked his head, silently asking with a raised eyebrow if they were ready for breakfast. They nodded – Tara with a sweet smile, and Buffy, shyly. “Right, then.” With a bow of his head, and a flourish of his right hand, Spike motioned for the ladies to head downstairs, followed by Giles and last of all himself. Watching. Waiting.

***

Breakfast was… interesting. Tara’s pancakes were a big hit, with Spike taking great delight in rolling them up and dipping them in his mug of heated blood, to gross out the rest of the diners.

“Oh, don’t you get all prissy on me, Slayer.” Spike laughed as Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust at his eating habits. You’re the one who fed me blood an’ ice cream, if I remember it right. I still think you should have had a taste of it, yourself.”

“If you were trying to make me go back to my regular eating patterns, you couldn’t have chosen a better image for me, you pig!” Buffy snorted, making a liar out of herself by reaching over to stake another couple of pancakes onto her plate.

“What?” All wide eyed and unassuming as she tucked into her food, she still retained the little girl air of innocence they’d become familiar with over the past few days.

Tara laughed out loud. Really, if she’d learned anything over the last few days, it was that happiness was a good look on her friend. “Buffy, I’m honored. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat with such enthusiasm. Well, except for Spike.”

“You do realize I’m gonna blame you when I get so fat I’m gonna have to wear muumuus to go slaying in.”

Spike managed a choked guffaw of his own at the image. “You go native on me, pet… and I promise to wear a loin cloth so’s we match. Heaven forbid I watch your back in anything less than GQ elegance.”

Buffy gulped, remembering the thin sheet wrapped around the vampire’s slender hips earlier in the morning. With Spike in a loin cloth, slaying vampires would be the last thing on her mind.

“I know what you’re thinking, Slayer.”

Her fork clattered to the floor as the color rose high and pink in her cheeks. “Y-you so do not, you pervert!”

Giles cleared his throat, causing Buffy to look up at three raised eyebrows on three very amused faces.

I am an adult…now. I can face this. “Okay, fine…laugh at the pervy little Slayer. Ha ha. Can we talk about actually patrolling now?” she pleaded, desperate to change the subject and focus of the conversation.

“H-has anyone been out on patrol in the past few days?” Tara took a deep breath in an effort to control her giggles.

Seeing that the meal was pretty much finished, Giles figured this was as good a time as any to bring the elder vampire into the mix. “Believe it or not, Angel has patrolled at least once that I know of since Spike’s transformation.”

The vampire’s entire demeanor changed at the mention of his grandsire. “Yeah… I seem to remember the git being here.”

“Knock it off, Spike… he fixed you,” Buffy grinned at the outrage on the vampire’s face. “Um, I mean… saved your unlife. Said something about familiar… familial blood being a cure-all.”

“Are you sure we’re in the right dimension, Slayer? I mean, I seem to remember him actually being nice to me.” Spike was perplexed at some of the images coming back to him. “He coddled. me. Held me like a nursing babe in his arms. I’d’ve bet m’crypt Hell would’ve froze over before His Broodyness would’ve deigned to help me.”

“It wasn’t just Angel, Spike. Do you remember your fall from the monkeybars?”

The vampire protested: “The Big Bad would never… oh balls, yeah… I remember. Was just the little wuss. Got a bit dizzy an’ fell.”

“You hit your head and were knocked out for hours.” Buffy reached out and gently rubbed the back of his neck. “Xander actually tried to stop your fall; just couldn’t reach you in time. He held you in his lap while Willow drove us back here. I was so scared you weren’t ever gonna wake up.”

“Knew you cared, pet.”

“I was a kid… what did I know?”

Spike pouted. “Knew who your friends were.”

Rubbing at his neck where he could still feel the warmth from her fingers, Spike felt the whole picture rapidly becoming unrecognizable. Three people who outright hated him had taken him in and cared for him. But it wasn’t really him, was it? Just some little nancy boy they could play dress up with.

“Well, if his bellowin’ yesterday was anything to go by, he’s back to stake first and – in his case – stake second if the first time don’t take.” Spike sighed, not wanting to upset Tara, but needing to know. “And what’s the deal with Red? I’ve never heard her so angry or defensive before.”

“H-how did you know?” Tara was shocked, knowing the children were upstairs behind the closed door during the intervention.

“Vampire, remember? Couldn’t make out all the words, but the tone came through loud an’ clear.” Spike made a noise deep in his throat, as if it hurt to get the words out. “Oddest sensation was feelin’ safe when the old Poof started his ruckus. Wish I knew what he was sayin’.”

“You know, calling Angel to let him know that you and Buffy are back to normal would be the right thing to do.” Tara looked at Spike with reproach. “He really was very concerned with your welfare… not to mention Buffy’s.”

Both Spike and Buffy looked like deer caught in the headlights at the thought of even speaking with Angel. It was one thing to be cared for as a small child, with no memories of a painful past, and yet another to have to thank him for being a decent family man after years of hate and distrust along with every other emotion.

Giles decided to put them out of their misery. “Before you both end up catatonic, I’ll be happy to make the call. I’ve already made more calls to him in the past four days than I have in all the time I’ve known him. What’s one more? And at least it’s good news.”

“Yeah, for us, at least. Dunno how thrilled Peaches is gonna be now that I’m back to my own charming self.”

Upon her return from the kitchen, Tara rested her hand on Spike’s shoulder. “You’re not used to being treated kindly, are you?”

Spike was quiet for a few moments, before he answered. “Only two people ever been genuinely kind to me. Mum, o’course, and Joyce.”

Unabashed shame coursed through them all as they hung their heads. Spike’s simple statement cut deep.

“Oh come on. Don’t you start feelin’ bad for me now.” Spike scoffed, “Some of the shite I put you all through earned me a fair amount of your hatred.”

“You know, after the last few days I don’t understand how anyone could’ve resisted you.” Buffy slowly wrapped her arms around the vampire’s waist, giving him all the opportunity in the world to back away if he were uncomfortable. “You really were the sweetest little boy,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest.

They hugged each other tightly, eyes closed. For a moment, they could pretend they were best friends again… seeking comfort in each other as they’d done for the past few days.

It didn’t last. Spike dropped a soft kiss on Buffy’s head, breathing in the scent of the woman who haunted him even in his dreams, and she stiffened in his arms, gently easing herself away from his embrace. “I-I don’t think that was the best idea I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the song, Slayer. Guess the truce is over and I’m back to evil, soulless thing again.” He sighed, shaking his head. “At least you didn’t break my nose. Do me a favor. Get me some clothes and I’ll be out of your…”

Buffy grew angry. She hadn’t meant to upset Spike, but there he was… taking everything the wrong way. Well, she would have to set things straight instead of letting them fester. At least she learned something from her five year old self.

“You’re a dope, Spike.”

“What did you call me?” The vampire was incredulous. She pushed him away and he’s the dope?

“Are you deaf, too? I said you’re a dope,” she repeated. “Have I said anything to you since we woke up that was… was…” Buffy rolled her eyes, and owned up to her own shortcomings in regards to the man in front of her. “…even close to my normal attitude towards you?”

Head cocked and arms wrapped around his torso, Spike had to admit he’d been reacting defensively. “So you haven’t been a bitch. S’just what I’d been expecting, is all.”

Oh God, he’s pouting – and it was just as devastating on the full grown version as the pint sized. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. It’s just that I couldn’t think straight so close…” She stopped abruptly, realizing that she was heading into dangerous territory.

And sure enough, Spike caught the ball and ran with it. “Oh, pet. Are you tellin’ me what I think you’re tellin’ me?”

“I’m telling you I’m confused,” she insisted. “First, you’re five and don’t remember anyone but your mother. Then I’m five and don’t even remember you. You get hurt really bad twice and I’m all Florence Nightingale. Then it’s your grandpa… Angel to the rescue. And this morning we’re all grownup again and we remember everything.”

Buffy was so agitated, she began to cry. “I feel so many things, Spike – so many things I don’t know what I’m feeling. Is it too much to ask that you give me a little time to get used to being big again?”

Spike grinned, his bad attitude erased by the woman’s tears. “You call yourself big, luv? You’re about as big as a flea. An’ m’sorry for jumping to conclusions. Self control’s never been a strong point.”

“Bullshit!” Buffy fumed. “I saw you with a broken wrist, frightened and in pain as Giles poked, prodded, set and wrapped it back together and not once did you go into gameface. If I was hurting like you, I would have bitten Giles. Kids aren’t known for their restraint, Spike. If you could hold it all together under those circumstances, your self control is amazing.” Breathing hard, she pointed an accusing finger at the vampire.

“You know what’s wrong with you, Spike? You’ve been singing your own praises for so long, you believe your own reputation. Spike the hothead. Spike who never follows a plan. Spike the idiot who’ll leap into a crowd of demons with no regard for his own neck. You need to step back and see yourself for who you really are.”

“I’ve been tryin’ to show you who I really am for the past year, pet,” he said, softly. “It’s been you and yours won’t let me be more’n the demon.”

“Well, maybe it’s time things changed.” Buffy snorted, laughing while the tears continued to fall. “We sure as hell did – to childhood and back!”

Spike gently urged Buffy towards the livingroom. “Let’s go inside, before the Watcher thinks I’ve done away with you. Don’t know how, with this bloody chip in my head, but somehow he’ll manage to blame me for your bloody and gruesome death.”

Hand in hand, they left the kitchen.

That night, Buffy had a spring in her step that had been missing for years. Back in her own clothing: tight red leather pants, white mini-tank top and chunky heeled boots; she was ready for action. She had the fleeting urge to whack Spike on the shoulder and yell “Tag, you’re it!” before taking off on a tear through the cemetery.

“What’s got you all fleet-footed this evening, Slayer?” Spike pulled up in front of her, pleased to see the happy glow on her face. “For months you’ve been draggin’ your ass around, givin’ the Poof a run for his money in the brood sweepstakes.”

“You were so much nicer as a kid, Spike.” Buffy slowed her pace, kicking at stray rocks in her path. “What happened to us? I mean, things were just so much easier to deal with when we were little.”

“Hmmm… let’s see. Had no friends outside of my mum while growing up, or anyone to share my future with. Got killed in a stable by Dru, molded into a monster by Angelus and felled by you. That’s what happened to me.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, oddly content with the knowledge that each other was near.

“You do know that’s a pathetic excuse for a life, don’t you?” Buffy asked, not entirely unkindly.

“Right pathetic, if you ask me.” Spike snorted, fully aware of how sad his life had been. “Then there’s you, pet. Dealt with a divorce when you were young, got Called, fell in love with the world’s only souled vampire, got killed and revived, shagged the soul outta said vampire, until he got resouled and you had to send him to hell to save the world, lost your mum, died again, got brought back and had to deal with me.”

“Oh God,” she groaned, “that’s pathetic too. Think there are any more of those shaggy demons around? Being five wasn’t so bad after all.”

Spike’s expression was soft and tender when he looked at her. “You were a very special little girl, Buffy. Very few li’l bits could’ve handled things like you did the past few days.” He reached out, smoothing a stray curl behind her ear. “An’ I want to thank you for bein’ so nice to me.”

“Being nice to you was easy. Hell, even Giles bent over backwards taking care of you.” Buffy snickered, before growing serious. “I’m just glad Tara did that reversal spell before we left the house. I can’t imagine what made Willow so afraid of a little boy that she had to spell you in secret.”

Now he knew things were wonky. Never before had she vocally admitted one of her friends had wronged him… especially the little witch. Spike was on shaky ground, and he trod carefully. “Listen, pet… I was still a vampire an’ Red was worried about you an’ her friends.”

Buffy stopped, hands on hips, the expression on her face screaming ‘are you an idiot?’ “We’ve known each other for five years, Spike… and the only time you ever got the upper hand in a fight was Parent’s Night, when Mom took you out of the fight with the business end of an axe. Everyone knows I’ve kicked your ass up and down Sunnydale for years, and suddenly Willow thinks you’re gonna take me out as a five year old?”

“You know, you really are an emasculating bitch,” he groused; no small amount of heat behind his words.

“What are you all pissy about? You’ve said so, yourself. Lots of times. It’s never bothered you before.”

“Slayer, I don’t mind the fact that you’re stronger than I am. What ticks me off, is the fact that you rub my face in it.” Spike sighed, resigned once again to the fact that for all her kind words lately, Buffy still didn’t consider his feelings. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky. Usually you play my humiliation to an audience.”

They were so engrossed in their arguing, neither heard the approaching footsteps.

“I see that you two are back to full size. Again, with the no calling and telling,” Xander sniped. “What’s up with that?”

And the bad luck track record continues.

“What are you doin’ here, Harris?” Pointing at Anya and Willow, he snorted. “I see you brought your bodyguards along for protection.”

Anya huffed: “Cut it out, Spike. The last we knew, you and Buffy were still kids, and someone had to patrol. Vamps and demons didn’t take holidays just because you and Buffy weren’t around.”

“Thanks for your help,” said Buffy, her demeanor a little stiff and formal. “But as you can see, things are back to normal and Spike and I have picked up the patrolling.”

“You’d think you’d be a little bit grateful that someone was patrolling while you were out of it, Buffy.” Willow was miffed at her seemingly abrupt dismissal.

Spike strode over to Willow’s side. “S’pose you want the Slayer to bow and scrape to you, eh Red?” He illustrated, making an exaggerated bow in front of the redhead. “Thank you for every little thing you do for her?”

“You know, nobody was asking you for your opinion, bleach boy,” Xander sneered. “In spite of everything that happened, you’re not one of us.”

“This is getting to be ridiculous.” Buffy had had enough. “Spike and I turned into five year olds, but you and Willow are acting younger than we ever did.”

She had thought to leave it alone, but was feeling just bitchy enough to unleash it at her supposed best friend. “After what you did to Spike, you have a lot of nerve demanding thanks from me.

“Yeah?” Xander leaned forward. “Why don’t you toddle off back to your crypt before I decide to dust you once and for all?”

Despite the silent clues Buffy was aiming his way, Spike had also had enough. He puffed out his chest and set himself in Xander’s path. “I’d like to see you try, mate.”

Grabbing a handful of Spike’s shirt, the younger man pulled him nose to nose, hatred pouring off him in waves. “You’re not cute anymore,” Xander spat as he shook the vampire like a rag doll. “You have no reason to be hanging around Buffy. In fact, you have no reason to be hanging around at all.”

“Um, Xander?” Anya interrupted the man’s tirade. “You do remember he can kill you now, right?”

Spike stiffened in Xander’s grasp, hoping demon girl would continue. This could be interesting.

A slight tremor in the hands that held Spike was the only indication that Anya’s words had been heard.

“Xander!” Anya yelled, more insistent this time. “We’re supposed to be getting married soon. If you get killed because Spike’s chip is gone before the wedding, I’m going to haunt you for all eternity.”

“Damnit, Anya! Don’t you ever know when to keep your mouth shut?” When Xander turned his full attention back to Spike, he came face to face with the demon’s furrowed brow and fangs, somehow all the more menacing because the vampire was grinning.

“So, Harris. Seems like you got more than you bargained for when you grabbed a handful of me.” Spike’s grin grew wider, though he still hung lax in Xander’s grasp. “Home field advantage’s finally shifted back in my favor”

Willow ‘eeped’ and prayed the fireball spell she’d been working on actually worked. “Incendiere,” she whispered, and a small, roiling ball of flames appeared above her extended hand. She took aim and launched it at Spike’s back, hoping it would be in time to save her friend from a certain fangy death.

What she hadn’t counted on was Buffy, who’d been watching both her and Xander with equal fervor. Just before the fireball would connect with the vampire’s vulnerable back, the blonde screamed “No!” and launched herself at the posturing males.

Buffy managed to get in between disaster and Spike, pushing him out of the way before the fireball deflected off of her arm, sending her to the ground with a scream of agony as it seared her flesh.

Tearing himself from Xander’s grasp as if it were an afterthought, Spike reached Buffy in seconds. Fangs bared, he growled a warning to stay away at her ‘friends’.

Buffy lay still and silent on the ground, bleeding slightly from a head wound where she’d made contact with a tombstone.

As Spike reached down to gather the fallen Slayer into his arms, he felt an unusual prickle against his skin, the sort of warning tingle he usually got when heavy magicks were being used. Figuring the residual energy came from the fireball, and mindful of Buffy’s injured arm, Spike settled her in the cradle of his arms and he prepared to stand, when suddenly she began to writhe.

Hoping that she had regained consciousness, the vampire paused in his tracks, only to notice her facial features had altered, softening – and her body weight had lessened. Within moments, she had reverted to her younger self. Her little shirt now covered her down to her knees, and her pants had fallen to the ground.

“Bloody hell, witch! What did you do?” Spike was livid, his anger boiling over into pure acid venom. “The girl’s just gotten over major mojo, and now you’ve zapped her right back into childhood.”

Xander had to get his two cents in. “She wasn’t aiming at her, you asshole. Why couldn’t you just have stayed still and let the nice little ball of fire dust you?”

At a loss for words, Willow kept quiet. What could she say? “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt Buffy and change her back into a kid. I was trying to kill you. Maybe next time, I’ll aim better.”?”

Still mindful of Buffy’s injured arm, Spike turned and headed for Giles’ place. At least they could patch up her arm, and maybe Tara would know what to do. No matter what happened, Buffy needed a clean, safe place to stay, and his crypt didn’t qualify.

Anya whispered that she was going to take Willow home. Things would be too volatile if she were to stay around Spike in the mood he was in.

Turning in the direction the vampire had gone, Xander shouted out, “Hold up, Fang. You’re not going anywhere I can’t keep an eye on you.” He panted, trying to keep up with Spike’s pace. “No way I’m gonna let you make a nummy treat of the little Slayer.”

Spike sighed. “You’ll never learn, will you? I’d no sooner hurt Buffy than take a walk in the noonday sun. No matter what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen.”

At Xander’s befuddled glance, he shook his head and they continued in silence to Giles’ place.

Once again, Tara opened the door to an unexpected sight. “My goodness. What happened to Buffy?”

“Let me put her down in the upstairs bedroom. Want her to be somewhere she’s familiar with when she wakes up. If she still has the same memories from last time.” Spike’s unvoiced worries about who she’d remember were easily discernable.

Tara looked directly into Xander’s eyes. There was no need to ask who was responsible. She could smell the stamp of Willow’s magicks on the little girl, and the guilt in Xander’s face was an elegant confirmation.

“Tell me, Xander. Tell me before I go upstairs to clean and dress that little girl’s arm. Why did Willow burn her?”

“It wasn’t her fault,” the man blustered. “Spike was all vamped out and threatening me and she was trying to protect me by…”

“By killing Spike?” Tara was nauseated. “Even if I believed your explanation, that is so wrong. First she’s casting spells behind everyone’s back, and now she’s progressed to attempted murder? Where is she?”

“Anya walked her home to Revello Drive. She thought it would be too much to have her and Spike in the same room after this.”

“Smartest thing that bitch ever did was steer clear of me.” Still in gameface, Spike came down the stairs, knowing Buffy was safe in Giles’ caring hands. “Watcher needs your help, Glinda. Has to clean her arm, and doesn’t want her to be in pain.”

She looked between the two men, and Spike added, “He’s safe. Wouldn’t bite ‘im on a bet.” He brought back his human mask, just to appease the girl, who then walked upstairs to help out Giles.

The two men sat on opposite sides of the room, neither speaking to the other. Xander was wondering why he just couldn’t keep his big mouth shut in regards to Spike. He hated him; all vampires for that matter, but especially Spike. Probably because he saw far too much of him, and in no small part because he was related in some vampirey way to Angel, who held his uppermost spot of hatred.

Spike sat and worried about Buffy. Nothing new there. He worried about her arm, and he worried about the fact that she’d turned back into a little girl. Very selfishly, down in the smallest corner of his heart, he worried that she wouldn’t remember him. She’d never seen him as a grown man before, and he was still insecure enough to worry that the others wouldn’t let him near her now.

Several minutes later, he could hear her cries of pain, and she was calling for… him! Not stopping to remember she was asking for little Spike, he ran up the stairs before anyone could call down for him.

“Spike! Spike! I want my Spike!” she cried, holding her right arm close to her chest.

He sat down on the bed, at her feet. “I’m here, poppet. Spike’s here for you.”

The little girl looked up at him blankly, no note of recognition in her eyes, and she started to cry again. “My Spike is a little boy, an’-an’ a bampire. I don’t know you,” she pouted.

Ignoring Xander’s snickers from the door, and holding up a hand to keep Tara and Giles from taking over, Spike did his best to hold back his own tears.

“It’s okay, Buffy. It’s me, really. I-I grew up last night, but it’s still me. See?” A quick change to gameface had the little girl reaching out to touch his brow, as she’d done several times when he was small. “Just me, a big bampire… um, vampire, but always your Spike.”

Buffy raised both her hands to Spike’s face, mapping out his cheekbones, and moving his face from side to side. She tilted her little head, staring deep into his blue eyes, before wrapping her little arms around his neck. “Oh! It is you.” She buried her face into the crook of his neck, whimpering. “My arm hurts, Spike.”

“I know it does, sweeting. I’m so sorry it hurts.” Spike smoothed the hair off of Buffy’s forehead, gently stroking her pudgy babysoft cheeks. “I promise it’ll feel better, soon. M’sure Tara can do somethin’ for the pain. Make it hurt less.”

“Sure, Buffy. Just as soon as you’re ready for bed, I’ll give you something for your arm.” Tara turned to the vampire on the bed. “Spike, you’re gonna have to leave now. Time for Buffy to get into her pajamas.”

“No!” Buffy scrambled around Spike like a little monkey, climbing onto his shoulders. “My Spike stays. At least ‘till my boo boo arm is better.” With her left hand, she wove her fingers through his hair and made a fist.

“Looks like I’m not leavin’ if I want to keep m’hair, pet.” Spike smiled, happy to be wanted. “I do have a suggestion for her bedclothes. Since we don’t know how long she’s gonna remain little, and from first-hand recent experience in outgrowin’ jammies, I’d suggest an oversized T-shirt.”

“You wanna sleep with me, Spike?”

Spike melted. Looking into her face, all wide eyed and innocent, he thought: ‘S’pose this is someone’s idea of a big, cosmic joke. She finally asks me to sleep with her, and it’s as a vampire teddy bear.’

“Don’t everyone get your knickers in a twist. I’ll wear Giles’ sweats again. No way I’m goin’ t’sleep starkers next to the little bit.”

Xander threw his hands up, and left the room without another word. It was obvious that nobody was going to listen to his warnings about leaving an unchipped male vampire alone with a little girl. And who knows? Maybe Buffy was fated to end up with a vampire for a companion. Who else could handle her?

They awoke in much the same position as the morning before; legs twined together, arms around each other, and Spike’s erection pressed between them. Only this time, Spike was wearing sweat pants and Buffy was at least mostly covered by the T-shirt she wore.

“If I were you Spike, I’d find a way to keep me five years old forever.” Buffy said, disconsolately as, once again, she disentangled herself from his embrace. “I’m so much nicer to you when I’m little. And it doesn’t seem to matter what you are.”

Spike looked at her… stung that she would actually dismiss him in such a matter-of-fact way.

“See what I mean? That so didn’t come out the way I meant it. Little me had no problems saying what she meant.” She sat on the end of the bed, cross-legged and comfortable. “What I meant to say was, it didn’t matter to little me whether you were little or big. She loved you either way,”

“Would you mind repeatin’ that, Slayer?” Spike was stunned that Buffy would admit to any part of herself being in love with him… even one he’d never see again. “M’not so sure I didn’t go senile overnight.”

She smiled, knowing what she’d actually let slip by accident was out of character for her. It was hard to blame Spike for being surprised.

“Yeah, I admit it. Little Buffy was in love with little Spike and big Spike.”

“An’ grown up Buffy?” he encouraged, foolishly hoping for anything other than vitriol. “How does she feel about either Spike?”

Truth be told, right now she felt rather bad, seeing him wince as he awaited her answer. “First of all, it’s not fair you lying there with no shirt on, making me answer questions where you want an honest answer.”

He laughed and reached over the side of the bed for his T-shirt. The girl didn’t want any distractions – he’d humor her. “All right, pet. My pretty body is all covered up now. No more excuses for you.”

Buffy snapped her fingers. “Darn it, I knew that was too easy. Okay, the question before the vampire is how does big Buffy feel about either Spike. Easy part, first. William was the sweetest child I had ever met. Outside of the shock of finding him bouncing naked on my mattress when I woke up and one sorta thoughtless wardrobe issue, I fell in love with him, hook, line, and sinker.”

“Wish you were around when I was really five, pet. Things weren’t so good for little William. He didn’t have a friend in the bloody world; forced to play alone in the nursery, quietly, for fear of interrupting the adults.”

“They – whoever they are – found out that children are very social creatures, and thrive on the company of friends and adults.” Buffy smiled softly, feeling tenderness in her heart as she looked at the man against the headboard. “Maybe it would have made a difference in the way you related to others when you grew up.”

“Might’ve done, yeah. But you still haven’t answered the last part of my question, Buffy. I know m’being a masochist to keep after you this way, but I have to know.”

Buffy sighed; he really did deserve that much. Now, if only she knew the answer, herself. She wracked her brain for something… anything… that she could tell him and honestly mean it.

“I-it’s… complicated, Spike. To say the very least.” She began to twist her hair, obviously very uncomfortable with the subject at hand. “You know I-I’m not good with honesty and feelings. And you and I? So not a pairing that should ever be. Been there, done that, bear the fang marks.”

When Spike seemed about to voice a protest at Angel being dragged into the discussion, she held up her hand, asking him to keep quiet for now.

“You see? That’s the whole problem, right there. Angel – Angelus – not to mention vampires in general. I know it sounds funny, especially since we were both kids only a day or so ago, but I have a terrible time letting go of my past. And I mean my more recent past.” Buffy sighed, wishing herself anywhere but here right now. “It would be nice if I could hold onto little Buffy’s beliefs.”

Spike couldn’t take the painful hemming and hawing any longer. “Pet, if it’s really such a hardship to give me a straight answer, let’s just for…”

“No! It shouldn’t be so hard to admit I like you. That I care about you.” Her eyes opened wide at her admission. “Oh God.”

“Bloody hell!” The awe in his voice made the words sound like a prayer. “Buffy… don’t toy with me. If you don’t mean it, take it back… now! Spike shook with intensity as he leaned forward; her words too important to him to be anything less than brutally honest.

“I c-can’t, Spike. I can’t take it back,” she whispered, looking directly into his eyes for the first time since they woke up. “Things have changed so much between us since that night at the Bronze.” With mischief sparkling in her hazel eyes, she asked, “Do you want to know what I really felt the first time I saw you?”

Spike nodded. If Buffy was in a sharing mood, he wasn’t going to do anything to make her stop, no matter what she had to say.

“I was seventeen years old, surrounded by a horde of kids, and I caught sight of a platinum blond head slinking in and out of the darkness. Then you walked over and for a minute, my mind flashed a ‘hottie alert’. It said ‘aha! A man amongst the boys’. And then my Slayerness screwed everything up.”

Head cocked with a sweet smile gracing his lips, Spike gazed in her direction. “Liked what you saw then, pet? I did. Thought it was a damned shame my calling was to kill you.”

Buffy relaxed. This was something she could do blindfolded; banter with him. “And when you applauded my little performance, I thought it was a shame I had to kill you.”

“Wasn’t for lack of tryin’ on either of our parts, pet. We gave it a right go at times, but in truth, I don’t think either of us was really ready for the dance to end.”

“W-what if I told you I’d like to dance to a d-different tune?” Buffy gulped, knowing she was making a decision that would change both of their paths.

“You know how I feel, pet. I love you.” He reached out to stroke Buffy’s cheek. “Made no secret about that for a long time. What makes you want to take a chance, now?”

Buffy smiled, moving a little closer to her erstwhile enemy. “I’ve seen you, William. I’ve seen the best and worst of you, and I think you might just be the one person in all the world that can put up with all the craziness of my world.”

A knock on the open door startled them both. “Sorry to interrupt such a personal conversation,” Giles muttered, wearing an expression that said he was anything but. “I must say it’s good to see you back to normal once again, Buffy.”

“Rupert, you’re not goin’ to go nutters on the girl for havin’ a conversation that really wasn’t any of your business, are you?” Spike was ready to step in-between his Slayer and her Watcher if need be.

Giles sighed. “No need to get defensive, Spike. You and Buffy are adults… at least for the moment. There are things we need to discuss, however, before you even think of continuing that conversation. Please, get dressed and meet me downstairs. We can talk over breakfast.”

***

Giles and Tara were waiting at the table; plates filled once more with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and freshly buttered toast by each placemat. Juice, coffee and one mug of blood were placed at the appropriate seats.

Breakfast was eaten in silence. The hangdog expression on Spike’s and Buffy’s faces made them look like the pair of children they had just been, waiting to be punished.

Giles stood, clearing his throat. “Let me start out by saying I am not happy with this turn of events. Not in the slightest. The last time Buffy chose a vampire for a… boyfriend… we all paid dearly for it.”

“Bloody hell, Rupes. You’ve got to stop comparin’ me to the Poof.” Spike stood abruptly, pushing the chair away from the table. “I’ve got nothing to lose by shaggin’ and you know I’ll protect the girl with my last fleck of dust. All m’askin’ for is a bloody chance to see if there’s anything between us.”

“Sit down, Spike… and hear me out, please. There’s a piece of information I believe will make a difference to Buffy, as to whether or not she wants to begin a relationship with you.”

Buffy knew exactly what he was going to say, and thought she would be able to curb some of the threatening hostility if it came from her.

“If you’re going to mention that Spike’s chip is gone, you should know that Anya spilled that little gem when we ran into her, Willow, and Xander on patrol. Of course, Xander was busy shaking Spike around like rag doll, and threatening to dust him.”

Giles was stunned. He was sure his revelation about the chip would bring the girl to her senses. “And this doesn’t bother you? The fact that a soulless creature is free to feed and wreak havoc once more?”

“Oi, git! I’m right here,” the vampire spat, angrily. “It’s not like I got the chip removed on purpose… point of fact, I don’t know how the bloody hell it happened. Care to enlighten me?”

Tara spoke up, hoping to calm the tense situation down. “Well, it was an unusual set of circumstances that led to Angel removing the chip…”

“Angel!” It was Buffy’s turn to explode. “Now I know we’re in Bizarro land… maybe I’m really in an insane asylum and you’re all delusions.” She shook her head, unable to process that bit of information. “Out of anyone you could have mentioned, Angel would be the last person to remove Spike’s chip.”

“H-he had no choice, Buffy.” Tara forged ahead bravely. “When Spike fell, the chip dislodged and made it’s way to the surface. It had been discharging constantly, a-and…”

Recognition alit in Spike’s eyes. “That would explain why my head felt all… fuzzy. I think it had been going off all day, but I had no frame of reference to explain it to anyone.”

Giles’ anger dissipated as he remembered little Spike complaining of the fuzziness. “If it helps any, Angel said he could always dust you when you were back to your normal annoying self.”

“That sounds more like the git I know.” Spike snorted, a little of the tension coursing through his body released. “He can bloody well try, and when he does, he’s gonna find out m’not the helpless fledge he used to beat into submission when the mood struck.”

“How about I beat on you a little for old times sake?” Xander strode into the kitchen, seemingly ready to start up where he left off last night. “Don’t even bother getting up, folks. I’m actually just here to say my piece if you’ll let me.”

“There’s only one reason m’willing to listen, you wanker. That’s ‘cause you weren’t the one who hurt Buffy.” Spike's level of alertness had doubled, ready to defend at a moment’s notice.

“Down, boy.” Xander held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I said talk only, but it’s not gonna be pretty. I’d just appreciate getting through my tirade before comments or fists start flying.”

When everyone remained silent, Xander began by pointing his finger at Spike. “I don’t like you. I don’t like you for almost too many reasons to count, but let me hit you with the highlights: You’re a vampire. I’ve been killing your kind for the past six years and don’t like making exceptions.

“It also frosts me that you’re related to Angel in whatever vampirey way you are. He’s the only vamp I hate more than you. It’s also the only thing that’s not your fault.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to find the words to finish this once and for all.

“The thing I hate most of all, is that freaking chip. First – that Buffy refused to stake you because it made you helpless, and second – now that it’s gone, it’s obvious she’s still not gonna do it, or let anyone else take you out.”

Buffy stood, coldly glaring at the young man she’d counted on to help watch her back all these years. “Are you done showing your hatred yet, Xander? ‘Cause if Spike hasn’t heard enough, I certainly have.”

“Hate me all you want, Buffy, but at least you know exactly where I stand.” Xander shook his head sadly, worry evident in his brown eyes. “I’m sure you won’t listen to my concerns regarding the bleached menace, so I hereby give up. No more comments, no more spewing venom, and no staking attempts. I only hope I never have to say ‘I told you so’ with this one. Or lose another friend, like Ms. Calendar.”

Spike cocked his head to the side, studying the younger man. “There’s more, isn’t there, Harris? You been cryin’, an’ I’m sure it’s not over hurtin’ my delicate feelings.”

His tirade having run it’s course, all pretense at bluster was put aside. Xander broke down, whispering one word: “Willow.”

Tara stood abruptly. “Xander. Tell me. What’s the matter with Willow?”

“Bitch can’t keep her magic outta other people’s business,” Spike grumbled, and received a sound smack on the back of his head from Buffy for his troubles.

“Not now,” she hissed. “I know you’re upset on my behalf as well as yours, but something’s really wrong for him to be this upset about her… especially in front of you.”

Xander concentrated solely on Tara. At least he knew how deeply she had loved Willow at one time – before she started taking things into her own hands. “She’s in trouble, Tara. You know she is. This business with Spike is just the final thing before she goes off the cliff big-time.”

“If one of you lot would have listened to me, I’d have told you that a long time ago.” Spike refused to quail under the sharp looks he received from everyone at his comment. “And don’t you all give me that ‘shut up, Spike’ bollocks. Red’s been going off the deep end for awhile now. Somethin’ don’t go her way, she’s lookin’ for a shortcut to fix it. Girl likes to be in control – just doesn’t seem to matter who gets in her way anymore.”

“Yea, and the earth will tremble, but I agree with Fangboy.” Xander shuddered, as if the very act of agreeing with the vampire was distasteful. “We’ve all been ignoring it for a long time, and ever since… well... ever since Buffy’s resurrection, Will’s been on a frustrated power trip. And the worst thing is, she means well.”

Giles sat deep in thought, wondering why he never followed through on his instincts to either fully train or control Willow’s burgeoning powers. Clichés sprang to mind… Absolute power corrupts absolutely… The road to hell is paved with good intentions… all fitting. Well, something had to be done, and immediately. Attempted murder was never a good sign.

“Tara, I do believe we need to contact the Coven in Devon. Perhaps they’ll know what’s to be done for Willow.” With a sigh, Giles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose in a failed attempt to stem the headache threatening to swamp him. “It won’t be long before she ceases to recognize any boundaries at all at this rate.”

“Can I get a few words in now?” Buffy felt her priorities being torn in several different directions, but knew she had to make a stand, and now. “Nothing’s felt right for me since that dive off the tower. I don’t talk about it much, because none of you want to hear what I really have to say… except for Spike.”

“Now see here, Buffy. You know we’re always here for you.” Try as he might to be civil, Giles couldn’t help but feel incensed that they were all being thrown over for the vampire.”

“Right… you’re here for me until you decide to waltz off to England, even when I begged you not to leave. For my own good, you said. I don’t even ask for help, and I begged you not to leave. Have you cashed in your ticket yet? Are you here for me?” Buffy’s voice cracked as the tears began to fall.

“Willow’s still convinced she had the right to bring me back from the dead. Doesn’t even matter to her that she dragged me out of heaven. She’s just pissed because I’m not all ‘happy, quippy, grateful Buffy’. Xander’s too involved with his wedding and future to remember I probably don’t even have one, and Tara and I aren’t exactly close.”

Spike reached out for her tentatively; not wanting to spook her but wanting to offer his support. “S’all right, pet. Don’t take on so.”

Buffy stood, snaking her arm around the vampire’s waist and pulled him close to her side. “Who else wanted to listen to me whine but a pain in the ass vampire I couldn’t remove from my side with a shoehorn?” She smiled softly, taking the sting out of her words.

“I just needed time. I needed something, and Spike gave it to me. He gave me the time to rant and rave, or be silent and moody. All he asked for was to be near me, and… and… I usually stayed away because I was worried about you all finding out and judging me.” A small, maniacal laugh escaped her lips.

“Before Giles interrupted this morning, Spike and I were talking about changing attitudes towards each other. Me towards him, actually. Didn’t get too far with it, though. But I guess I can tell all of you at the same time. I want to see where it leads. Just being nice and pleasant, and giving him the simple courtesies I give anyone else.”

At Spike’s soft snicker, she rolled her eyes and amended her last statement. “Fine, smart ass – the courtesies I should be giving everybody else. I’m not expecting much. If you can’t be civil, just leave him alone. I’m gonna put some major time and effort into this, so just don’t go all wiggy on me. That’s it. Anyone have final parting words?”

When none were forthcoming, Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm in a move that left the others with a lingering sense of déjà vu, and headed back to the bedroom.

Though he was certain they were heading towards impending doom, Spike still relished the feel of Buffy’s strong thighs as they tightened around his hips and her head resting against his back. Her arms encircled his waist, while her hands and their traitorous little digits were… busy. They’d wormed their way under Spike’s T-shirt, and were splaying against his twitching abs. Every now and again, she’d get a little bit of the devil in her and run her nails along the muscle ridges, laughing at each swerve of the bike that resulted from her actions.

Spike felt as if he were in heaven, or as close as he was likely to get. He could feel the curve of Buffy’s lips as she smiled against his jacket. The power of the machine between his legs was nothing compared to the feeling he was getting from the girl at his back.

They’d argued about it before heading out on this fool’s journey. Spike hadn’t wanted to go at all. Dealing with Angel after all that had gone down in the past week would be… difficult, to say the least. Downright impossible if their past was any indication. Spike would have preferred above anything to let sleeping dogs lie.

Buffy, on the other hand, insisted that he go and deal with Angel once and for all – and on going along, herself, upping the degree of difficulty tenfold. Spike was going to try and find some peace with Angel. Shoving his burgeoning relationship with the woman the elder vampire felt forced to give up would be rubbing salt into already raw wounds. In addition, neither believed the other worthy of her.

The agreed upon compromise was Buffy visiting her father for a couple of hours, and joining Spike afterwards. She, too, had some unfinished business with Angel.

As the bike motored on, he felt Buffy’s hands drift downwards, toying with the soft pad of his belly. If she kept doing that for much longer, she’d be shaking hands with more than she bargained for.

Spike turned his head slightly and slowed the bike’s speed. “Minx! You tryin’ to run us off the road?”

“Just call me Dora the Explorer,” Buffy yelled, trying to be heard above the sound of the bike and the wind. As if to emphasize her new calling, her fingers started to spider-crawl their way just the teensiest bit lower.

Any other time Spike would have leant back and encouraged Buffy’s attentions; a hand job on a moving motorcycle was nothing new to him. However, the last thing they needed was Super Nose sniffing the results of her ministrations. Any chance for peace would be quashed before he walked through the door.

Spike pulled the bike over to the shoulder of the road and dismounted, with Buffy following right behind. The merry twinkle in her eyes had him this close to abandoning his plans for Los Angeles and doing a little exploring of his own.

“The things I give up for you, luv,” he sighed. “If you don’t want to drive this bike home with a pocket of dust for a passenger, I’d suggest you don’t leave me smellin’ of anything but your own sweet arms.”

Buffy thought for a moment, before wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Gods, Spike. You’re such a pig.”

“Might be, sweetling, but scenting is a trait we vampires can’t ignore.” He ran his fingers lightly over her arm, bringing her hand to his lips for a chaste kiss on her palm. “It feeds us, protects us, pleasures, and condemns us.”

She looked deep into his blue eyes before bursting out with peals of laughter. “And you have the… the… stones to call Angel a drama queen?”

If it weren’t for the sheer pleasure he got from seeing his girl as happy and carefree as her younger self, Spike would have been furious. He’d felt the sting of her laughter before, but this time he could sense it was different. There was no mocking involved, and he allowed himself to relax and join in the play.

“That’s good, pet.” He laughed back, pulling Buffy up tight against his body. “Just dress me up and call me Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.” He dropped another kiss on the crown of her head, letting her feel just how much of a ‘queen’ he wasn’t.

Buffy gulped, knowing they’d get carried away if they didn’t get back on that bike now! “O-okay, fine. You’ve made your… point. We can figure out who’s royalty when we get home.”

Stepping over the bike, Spike patted the seat behind him. “Hop on, little mama.” The blond smirked, and took off with a roar as soon as Buffy was settled in behind him, hands in a little more circumspect grip this time around.

An hour and a half later, they parted ways. Before she headed towards her father’s office building, Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike’s waist, and gently brushed her lips against his. “You’re already stinky with me,” she snickered. “What harm can a little more eau de Buffy do? And again, ewww! I still find that sniffing thing so very, very icky.”

“Promise you’ll come back to me, pet?” He tried for light and teasing, but the need that echoed in his own ears made him wince.

“If you didn’t need some privacy, I wouldn’t leave in the first place.” She resisted the urge to go and hug him again. This new separation anxiety business was something they were going to have to learn to live with. “Promise me I’ll have an annoying platinum blond vampire to come back to?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Slayer. Can’t make promises about the Poof, but I’ll do m’best.”

***

Spike pulled into a space directly in front of the Hyperion, and looked back at the bike. He wasn’t worried about it not being there when it was time to go home, he was worried about himself not being there to go back with Buffy.

He walked through the double doors, not knowing what to expect. It surprised him to find the place dark and deserted. Fairly sure someone would have ratted his visit out, Spike was almost expecting to be greeted by the cheerleader aiming her trusty crossbow at his heart.

“Oi, Peaches! Cheerleader!” The silence was rather eerie, as if he’d walked into a vacuum. “Anyone here?”

Angel walked out of his office. “You don't have to yell. I heard the moment you pulled up with the motorcycle, Spike. Stealth has never been your forte.”

I can control my temper. I can control my temper. Spike closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tightly at the obvious gibe, cracking his neck to relieve the tension.

“Giles called, warning me you were on your way with Buffy.” The elder vampire walked a circuit around Spike, as if inspecting him. “Where is she and why are you here alone?”

“Wanted to do this without the Slayer. Wasn’t sure you told her all about our past, an’ I don’t rightly know where this is goin’ to lead. I thought I’d spare her some of the more… gruesome details.” Spike ran his fingers through his hair, not entirely comfortable with the fact that his erstwhile Sire was being civil. “Buffy's at her father's, but she’ll be back in a couple hours, sooner if that wanker disappoints her again.”

Spike’s nerves made him twitchy. “Where’re all your minions? Didn’t want witnesses?” Stabbing an accusatory finger in Angel’s direction, he muttered, “Just don't go thinkin' of my dusty ending or you'll have one brassed off Slayer on your hands.”

He began to pace, unable to stand still for more than a moment. “Got a question for you, Peaches, an’ I want a detailed answer. Just tell me why?”

“Why, what, Spike? Why is the sky blue?” Angel asked, deliberately blandly. Winding up the blond had always been one of his favorite pastimes. “Aren’t you a little old to be asking those kinds of questions?”

“You bloody tosser!” The younger vampire snarled; the effort to keep from going into gameface and attacking corded the muscles in his neck. Unclenching his jaw, Spike let loose with a volley of words, not pausing in-between questions long enough for the elder vampire to get a word in edgewise.

“Why any of it?” His pacing picked up speed, throwing up his hands with each question. “Why’d you go to Sunnyhell when Giles called? Why’d you bother staying an’ removing the chip? Feedin’ me your own blood, twice? Caring? Why the bloody hell didn’t you just dust me while you had the chance?”

“Are you done? Do you really want answers or are you just mouthing off to hear yourself speak?”

Suddenly, Spike was fairly sure he didn’t want to hear the next words out of Angel’s mouth, but he kept quiet, nevertheless.

“Truth be told, I had no desire to show up in Sunnydale at all when I heard it was you who was injured.” Angel’s voice was flat and unemotional; conveying the events as they’d unfolded. “I told Giles that as a vampire you’d either heal or dust. I didn’t want to be involved.”

Even though Spike had been expecting to hear how little he mattered, it still stung to have it told so bluntly to his face.

“So why…?”

“He played on my feelings for Buffy. Giles told me she was affected by the same thing as you were, intimating that what happened to you would likely happen to her. He never told me you were both children.”

Angel folded his arms across his chest, once again studying the vampire before him. He had to admit to himself that there were mixed feelings on his part in facing Spike down this way. On a bad day, he could still feel an occasional twinge from all that damned rebar courtesy of the younger vampire’s associate, Marcus.

Thanks to these past few days, he could vividly recall his grandchilde’s younger self, instinctively trusting with him, and gentle with Buffy. If he looked closely, he could make out the little one’s features in the grown up face.

“Take a soddin’ picture, Angel. It’ll last longer.” Spike wished he would say something already… didn’t matter if it was derogatory or baiting. The silence was nerve-wracking.

“I’m just trying to find the right words to answer your question.” Angel said, sitting down on a padded chair.

Spike resumed his pacing, Even the fact that Angel was calm enough to sit down agitated him. “It’s not a difficult question, you bloody git. Why didn’t you let me dust, or drain me if the soul would’ve twinged at you walkin’ away?”

“A moment of weakness?” Angel shrugged his shoulders, knowing there was nothing that angered Spike more than being dismissed out of hand. “Nah, that’s not it. You reminded me of someone… someone I couldn’t save.” The elder vampire laughed softly, tickled by his own thoughts. “Sort of an undead memorial.”

Terrific, not only was he deemed unworthy of his grandsire’s time in the first place… now he owed his unlife to some dead kid and a case of the guilts over Buffy.

All the energy seemed to leave Spike at once as he slumped into a chair opposite Angel. No matter what, it was obvious he’d never be enough to garner respect in his own right.

Looking at his dejected grandchilde, Angel decided he’d pushed far enough. One important question had been answered, at least in his own mind. Spike wouldn’t give free reign to his temper over words or attitudes that used to provoke a week long rage when he was barely past the fledgling stage.

Spike raised his head; his gaze listless and unfocussed. It wasn’t that he’d given up… exactly. He did have his Slayer to go home with as long as Angel didn’t take up his ‘must dust Spike’ mantra. He just wished the git would get on with it instead of talking him to a second death.

Breaking an unlifetime’s worth of habit and unwritten law in their family dynamic, the elder vampire offered an olive branch. “It wasn’t all bad, you know. At least not in the beginning.”

“What are you going on about, then?” The softness and compassion in Angel’s tone jarred Spike out of his haze.

“I seem to remember Angelus being rather pleased when Dru dragged your scrawny ass home for the first time.” Angel smiled at the memory. It had been a long time since he’d recalled his introduction to William. “It was nice not being the only rooster in the henhouse.”

“Yeah, right. Angelus. You still pulling that old him an’ me bit to justify a hundred an’ fifty years of destruction and bloodshed?” Spike snorted, amazed at how stupid it all seemed. You simply were who you were; man, demon or soul, and you owned up to all your actions. “Fine. Whatever it takes to get you through the night.”

“I’m trying to…” Angel knew this discussion wasn’t going to be easy. He’d basically run roughshod over, abused, ignored and subjugated William for the near twenty years they lived together. “What I said before was… wasn’t exactly the truth, Spike. How does someone apologize for being truly a selfish bastard, caring for nobody and nothing but his own pleasures?”

“You’d be a right ponce to try,” the younger vampire snarled. “And nothing you ever did to me an’ Dru equaled the cowardly way you abandoned us both to that hellbitch’s whims. Darla,” he spat, “took it all out on us.”

“It all went so wrong,” Angel tried to explain. “I’ve never been one to revel in my own pain, and the ensouling just about drove me mad with my past deeds. Add yours and Dru’s and I felt I had to escape to survive.”

“Coward!” Spike reiterated. “If you had bothered to tell either of us, we’d’ve stuck with you. You know we would’ve.”

Angel nodded. “Now, I do. Back then I was only thinking of my own pain. And then there was Buffy. Want a drink?”

“Nah… need to keep myself sober. Not willin’ to chance hurtin’ the girl on the way home.”

“You and Dru aren’t the only ones I left behind.” Angel sighed, still hurting over decisions he’d made in the past. “Leaving Buffy behind nearly broke me, but Joyce was right. I had to make the difficult decision for her own good.”

Spike’s hands gripped the armrests so tightly that the metal began to buckle He was just this side of attacking the elder vampire for the pain he was responsible for. “You stupid, selfish berk.” Shaking his head sadly, Spike continued. “Biggest mistake you ever made, Peaches. Should’ve stayed with her.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Angel insisted he’d done the right thing. “I-it wasn’t, damn it! I gave her up so she could find a little normalcy in her life. Someone she could walk in the sun with… have children with.”

“But she walks in the dark! She walks in cemeteries and kills things. Every. Single. Night.” The blond was furious. “You gave up on her, you mean. You gave her up for someone she’d have to protect… another burden.” Spike waved his hand in his grandsire’s direction, dismissing him as a fool for his actions. “Should’ve stayed with her, mate. What you did… leaving her? Destroyed the girl, slowly.”

Angel looked at him as if he were insane. Buffy was fine when he last saw her. Of course she was grieving over her mother’s death, but it was a normal part of the cycle of life and death. Surely she’d moved on enough to continue with her life.

“She never fully recovered from you leaving, Angel. In her mind, everyone she ever cared about abandoned her. First her father, then you… then fuckin’ Captain Cardboard. Even her mum’s death added to the toll. The girl’s got issues that crippled her.”

Steadfastly holding on to his belief that he had done right by Buffy, the elder vampire refused to meet Spike’s accusations.

“I tried to be there for her, but she had little use for a chipped and soulless demon ‘cept as occasional muscle. An’ when the Slayer finally gave in to her death wish while tusslin’ with that Hellgod, Glory? I had to stand by and pick up the bloody pieces. One old Watcher and a handful of kids left to watch over the Hellmouth? The soddin’ Scoobies were fallin’ apart. Who the bloody hell do you think patrolled with ‘em to keep them safe? Wasn’t you.” Of course Spike didn’t mention the fact that being somewhat useful was the only thing that kept him from actually taking a walk in the sun on a day by day basis.

Angel grew deadly serious as he listened to Buffy’s travails since he’d left. Apparently a ‘normal’ life wasn’t in the cards for her no matter who she was with.

“Gets better when Red an’ her cohorts decided to play ‘raise the dead’. Rupes went back home; a broken man with no Slayer to watch.” Spike’s chest hitched, remembering those dismal days when Buffy was gone. “The stress of patrollin’ nightly was wearin’ on the lot of ‘em.”

“Willow’s gotten downright scary,” said Angel. “Her need to be in control rivals Faith’s. Why hasn’t Giles done anything about her?”

“After Buffy clawed her way out of her coffin, Rupes was on the next plane back to Sunnyhell. Was as happy as the rest of us to see her back, but like me, was furious about the witch’s total lack of respect for the laws of death and nature. Heard him tell her off good an’ proper, when the Slayer an’ me were on the back porch. Bloody hell, even vamps don’t play around with resurrections because of the consequences.”

Angel had the decency to look abashed, as he remembered Angelus’… his attempted raising of Acathla.

Spike snorted as he remembered what came next. “Then we come to droopy boy. Actually summoned a demon that turned the town into Sunnyhell, the Musical. People would burst into song, dance, and then spontaneously combust.”

“And this has to do with Buffy, how?” The elder vampire was confused.

“M’getting’ there. Everyone ended up singin’ about their innermost secrets. S’when they found out Buffy had been in heaven… not a hell dimension as Red thought. She’d been hiding it from her friends, but she’d told me. She’d come to me at night and we’d talk, or be quiet. Whatever she needed.” Spike shook his head in amazement that she’d come to him at all, whatever her reasons were.

“Could feel her slippin’ away day by day. Livin’ was hell for her.” Spike tilted his head, as his expression grew thoughtful. “It’s been better the past day or so, even with all the chaos of flippin’ ages back and forth. S’like she found something… a lost innocence... makes her glow when she smiles.”

Words failed to convey the emotional turmoil gathering in Angel’s chest. They’d never been his forte; he was always more a man of action. The elder vampire rose from his seat with a growl, and sprang without warning at Spike, grabbing the blond out of his seat.

Spike didn’t have the time to react. He barely had time for one last coherent thought – that he’d regret never seeing Buffy again, and he was fairly sure she’d never know how he met his end.

Angel continued to growl deep in his throat; eyes flickering amber as he stared deep into the younger vampire’s blue gaze.

“Just bloody do it, already, you old poof!” The last of Spike’s bravado made itself known. “If you’re gonna drain me, get on with it before…”

Spike was cut off mid-rant by the mouth smashed against his own in a brutal kiss, hard enough to split his lower lip. Angel’s tongue lapped at the oozing flesh, gently sucking to encourage a little more blood flow.

As he quickly came to the realization that dusting wasn’t in his imminent future, Spike relaxed. His hands came up to settle on Angel’s shoulders, unconsciously pulling the bigger man closer, molding his body to his grandsire’s and returning the kiss with fervor.

‘I’m sorry’s’ were uttered over and over by both parties; for what sins, neither was exactly sure. Angel pressed a line of gentle kisses along the expanse of bared neck then backed away, as if aware this was taking a decidedly different turn from his intentions.

Spike crumbled to the floor, in shock from the embrace as well as the sudden lack of support. “What the bloody hell was that all about?”

Angel appeared to be as stunned as the blond. “It's just... I think… you know there’s always been something between us… something that didn’t involve the girls.”

“The only thing that’s ever been between us has been your hatred and your bloody cock.” The younger vampire was not amused

“You’re a pig, Spike.” Really, the man had no sense of class whatsoever, Angel thought.

“Hey! Isn’t that usually my line?” Buffy made her presence known, looking from Spike on the floor, to Angel looming over him. “I thought this was supposed to be a talk, Blondie. Why is your ass on the floor?”

Shit! Both vampires worried about what she’d heard… if she heard…

Buffy smirked. “You look like a pair of puppies caught stealing the Sunday roast from the kitchen table.”

“Um, it-it’s not what it looks like, Buffy,” Angel stammered.

“Well, recently being in the same position, I’ll give you a chance to explain why Spike is on the ground. Points in your favor for him not lying in a puddle of blood.” Turning to the younger vampire, she mouthed, “We so have to talk when we get home.”

“S’all right, luv,” Spike soothed, giving his grandsire an easy out. “Just worked out some past differences. Seem’s like the Poof’s had a change of heart about yours truly.” He looked over at Angel for confirmation.

“As long as Spike doesn't start feeding again, he'll have no problems from me,” the elder vampire said quietly.

Buffy stared at them, fear in her eyes, and dropped suddenly to huddle in a ball on the floor.

Scuttling over to her, Spike reached out to grab her shaking shoulder. “What’s wrong, Slayer?” Concern made his voice crack.

She looked up, giggling uncontrollably… soundlessly; helpless to stop and unable to catch her breath.

“You bloody bitch!” The relief that nothing was wrong softened his harsh words.

“I’m so sorry,” Buffy wheezed, finally able to pull in a little oxygen. “If this isn’t a perfect setting for another apocalypse, nothing is.”

Buffy collapsed, laughter overtaking her once more. This time she dragged Spike with her. The two began a mock-fight, pummeling each other lightly while rolling around on the lobby floor.

Angel sat back and smiled sadly. It was true, then. He’d finally lost her. But she? Looks like Buffy found what she’d been looking for in a partner all along… an equal.

And he’d regained a family.

The End