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Chapter Seven: Say You, Say Me

The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.

Thomas Szasz, The Second Sin (1973)

Forgiveness does not always lead to a healed relationship. Some people are not capable of love, and it might be wise to let them go along with your anger. Wish them well, and let them go their way.

Real Live Preacher, July, 2003

The hatred you're carrying is a live coal in your heart - far more damaging to yourself than to them.

Lawana Blackwell, The Dowry of Miss Lydia Clark, 1999

Anya pushed the apartment door forcibly open and marched inside. She had stopped and picked up Xander, still angry at him and his stupid mouth. Xander knew the ex-vengeance demon was pissed, he just couldn’t say how much, but if he counted her not speaking to him, he guessed it must be pretty bad. Neither spoke that night. Anya making it perfectly clear that Xander’s bed would be the sofa.

The sound of banging drew Xander from a fitful sleep. Sitting up he flung his feet over the side of the couch, resting them on the floor, sighing. It was time to face World War Three, currently being waged in the kitchen.

Poised at the sink, tossing pans back and forth, Anya was trying to make as much noise as possible to disturb the brunette’s sleep. She wanted to talk. Oh, she knew how rude and uncaring human males could be, but from Xander, and to his friend, Anya was taken back. How could the man she loved, wanted to marry, have such hatred coiled in his heart? And the blonde couldn’t help but wonder… how did Xander truly feel about her, deep down inside? She was an ex-vengeance demon after all.

“How could you?” she asked him not bothering to turn around. Her body was tense and Anya needed to flex her hands to relieve some of the stress.

“What do you want me to say, Ahn? I-I just couldn’t… I mean… how am I supposed to support Buffy with this? I’m not good at being all support-o guy when she’s doing something so stupid.” He sighed tiredly.

“What she’s doing… it’s not stupid! And- and you can’t control her life, Xander. Buffy is a grown woman, she can make choices for herself, and right now she needs the support of all her friends.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper as she fought off the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “And what about me, Xander? How can you hold such hatred towards demons and still love me? I was a demon, for eleven hundred years. I maimed… killed… tortured, and loved it all the while.” She turned to face him. “Do you hate me?”

Xander was already feeling like an ass for the way he’d reacted towards Buffy and Anya’s words, and pleading doe eyes, only made him feel worse. Then she dropped this bombshell on him, asking if he truly loved her. He was ashamed and disappointed in himself as the images of not only Buffy’s, but also his fiancée’s hurt face, flashed before his mind’s eye. What had set him off so much? Well, he knew the answer to that; it was his desire for Buffy to have all things normal. Normal meaning him, if he was truthful with himself, and because of that revelation he’d caused Anya to question her place in his life.

He was such a loser.

His years of sitting on the side line, hoping and praying that Buffy would see him as more than her best friend, more than her brother like figure, as the lover he so desperately wanted to be to her. So when Angel dropped the Slayer like a bad habit it had made him want to stand up and sing, to buy a round of jelly doughnuts for all. The Xan-Man knew that, for once, something on the Hellmouth had gone right.

When Riley popped up and started dating Buffy, yes, Xander was hurt that it wasn’t him, but Riley was normal guy. And Normal Guy in his book could be dealt with, even if said guy worked for a secret government agency. That was okay too, since it took care of the demon problem in Sunnydale. And now that he thought about, Anya had breathed a sigh of relief when The Chosen One started dating the ex-commando – now Xander knew why.

Then there was Spike - the main player in this whole drama. Xander had known he was trouble the moment he’d set eyes on the cocky demon all those years ago, but he thought it was only in the “I’m gonna drain you and yours” kind of way. Never in a million years did the idea cross the brunette’s mind that Buffy would allow that monster to touch her. But she had, and now… a baby. If Buffy had only done her job and sent a nice pointy stake into the vampire’s chest, none of this would be happening now. ‘And sadly, you still wouldn’t be her boyfriend.’

“Xander! Xander, are you listening to me?” Anya had appeared before him, hands on her hips and face twisted as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Well, if you haven’t heard, I’ll repeat it for you. No orgasms until you answer my question and march yourself over to Buffy’s to apologize. Be sure to grovel at her feet!”

Xander only looked up at his fiancée in defeat; he knew she was right… but still the words wouldn’t come.

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“I just stopped by to get my axe…” Buffy started to explain but paused when she saw the visitor in her kitchen, the one who was looking quite at home. “What is he doing here?” she asked, hands firmly on her slender hips.

Joyce had just finished placing two mugs in the sink when she turned to smile at her daughter. “Now, Buffy, where are your manners?”

Buffy glanced over at the vampire sitting very comfortably on one of the chairs at the island. She glared, he smirked, and it was all she could do not to send a stake flying through the air. Why was it that Spike could infuriate her with just one look? She chalked it up to evil undead super powers.

“Spike, why isn’t it nice to see you,” she gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Now, now, Slayer no need to get hostile. Joyce here invited me over for a cuppa, how could a bloke resist?” Spike was loving this; Joyce was having Buffy make with the nice, and seeing how pissed off it made her made him desire her all the more. Could un-life get any better?

‘Mom had invited Spike over, why and for what? What ulterior motives did the woman have?’ Buffy wondered as she stood in the doorway, watching as her mom laughed at something the vamp said. ‘And just when did Spike get dimples?’  Buffy wondered as he laughed at the reply her mother gave him. And why were said dimples making Buffy all fuzzy headed?

‘Gee, mom, thanks for the moral support.’ Buffy thought eyeing her mother. It hadn’t taken Joyce very long to come to terms with her daughter being impregnated by her arch nemesis before inviting him back for a chat… and cocoa. Why didn’t Joyce make cocoa with little marshmallows for her anymore? Buffy began to pout. This so wasn’t fair. ‘Stupid vampire, sucking up to my mom!’

Spike, picking up on the negative vibes coming off the Slayer, and not fancying a broken nose this early in the evening stood, reaching for his leather duster, draped over the chair. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Joyce. We’ll have to do this again.”

“Oh, do you have to go so soon?” Buffy mocked, bidding her pouty lip good bye to bat her eyes demurely at him. “Good, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

‘Okay, hold up, one minute you’re all with the ‘yay, Spike will never leave my side’ and now you’re all with the ‘get out of my house before I dust you.’ Seriously Summers, you gotta get these hormones under control.’

“Buffy.” Joyce sent a warning glare at her daughter, causing the Slayer to blush slightly. “Don’t go Spike, we haven’t finished our talk. I was looking forward to telling you about this new piece just delivered from Africa.”

“Well, I wouldn’ want to impose…”

“NO! I mean, no. Silly me, you came to visit my mom, and I was just here to get my axe. No need to go, Spike. Really.” Buffy finished with a crooked smile with a nervous giggle and, those butterflies were starting to take flight in her stomach. Spike wasn’t making it any better looking at her as if she had grown a second head, and it had started speaking in French.

“Where’s Dawn?” The Slayer asked, glancing around the kitchen, desperate for a change of topic.

“You just missed her, she left about an hour ago. She had a date with some young boy from school. John Doe, if I recall correctly.”

Both Slayer and Vampire looked at the elder Summers in surprise.

“Let me get this straight. You, let Dawn go on a date… with a boy… named John Doe?” Buffy and Spike shared a look before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I don’t see what the problem is, he seemed like a sweet boy… really,” Joyce added off handily thinking about her meeting with the teen. But she had to laugh as well, who would name their son John Doe?

The doorbell rang, breaking the three from their mirth as Buffy excused herself to answer it. It was weird, she and Spike standing in her kitchen laughing, at the same joke… way wiggy. And even higher on the wiggins scale, Spike and her mom sipping hot cocoa, looking so comfortable, so at ease, like… like some Brady Bunch rejects.

Could someone please explain why Joyce clearly had a relationship with Spike that should have been obviously marked “Buffy’s boyfriend” and, reserved for just that purpose. Not for the bleached wonder. The kind Buffy desperately wanted her mother to have with Angel, or Riley.

Reaching the door Buffy opening it, her smile quickly disappearing from her face.

“Xander.” It was cold, and to the point, no friendliness involved.

“Hey, Buffy. Uh, can I come in… just for a sec?”

Buffy stepped to the side to allow him entrance then closed the door behind him.

“Can we talk?” Xander asked, trying to read the Slayer’s face for any emotion other than betrayal.

She didn’t reply only headed for the formal living room, sitting down on one of the chairs. Following her lead the young construction worker sat as well, resting his hands on his knees.

Silence stretched between the two.

“Look Xander, I really don’t have time for this so make with the talking.”

Xander visibly flinched at the harshness in her tone, but he guessed he deserved it. He had said some pretty nasty things to her the other night. Running a hand through his hair, he pressed forward.

“I know this is the last thing you’d want to hear. But, I really feel awful for what I said Buffy. Yes, I was hurt, and confused, and just not with the understanding. And hey, I only want the best for you, kiddo, so if my intentions get a little misdirected, I’m sorry. You need supportive friends right now, not those dealing with their own personal demons, and I should have seen that. Xander bad. Xander sorry. Ready to jump back on the “We Love Buffy” band wagon if you’ll let me.”

As much as Buffy wanted to hate Xander and stay mad at him, she couldn’t find it in her heart. He was sorry, and had apologized, quite nicely even. Plus, she had to take into consideration the whole “get out of jail for free” card, which all best friends carried. It would be in opposition to the best friend handbook if she didn’t forgive him.

“I forgive you, Xander. You’re lucky cause you’re my friend. But if you ever, and I mean ever, say those nasty, hurtful things to me again, human or not, I will make sure you suffer a long and painful death. Got it?”

“Got it. No more me inserting foot into mouth!”

The two got up and shared a hug, before Buffy walked Xander to the door.

++++

Swinging the axe with a whistle Buffy cursed her luck. She was in a junkyard hunting for that slimy blob with Spike in tow. Giles had called telling her there was a sighting and to go slay it. Like she didn’t know what her job description was already. But Joyce had other plans, and quickly acted upon them.

Joyce turned questioning Buffy. “Did you give further thought to what we talked about yesterday morning?” She was standing by the open kitchen door.

“Yes, mom, I did, and still am.” Buffy had moved to stand in the doorway, hoisting the axe onto her left shoulder. “See, this is me thinking.”

“That’s good dear.” Joyce said patting Buffy’s shoulder. “So you’ll have no problem taking Spike with you on patrol. Maybe the two of you can talk.”

As Joyce shared her plan she not so gently ushered her daughter out the kitchen door. Buffy stumbled a bit, caught off guard by her mother’s assault, before turning to argue against the idea. There was no way she was going to willingly patrol with a vampire. Well, any vampire besides Angel that is. Before she could protest her mother stopped her with “the look” before turning to Spike to wish him good night.

Matchmaker, no, but President of the “tell Spike about the baby” fan club, maybe. Joyce’s desire for both blonds to come to an understanding, for the baby’s sake, was quite clear. Ditch the whole “I want you dead because you’re my mortal enemy” and become neutral towards each other. The Slayer figured she could try; she did let Spike get close enough to get her pregnant, so trying to get along with him couldn’t hurt… much.

Something was up; the Slayer was quiet, and Spike was still a bit taken back by her asking him to stay earlier. He wondered if it had something to do with the new scent she carried and the hint of magic it contained. It had been itching at his senses all evening and he was dying to question her about it.

“Didn’t know you dabbled in magic, Slayer.” It was a statement not a question.

Buffy didn’t reply, only giving him that ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look she had perfected as she continued walking.

Regarding the petite slayer with a raised brow he spoke, “Just wondering is all. I haven’t seen you and when I do... well you go and change your smell.”

‘Darn vampires and their enhanced senses.’

“Okay, ewww! Stop sniffing me, that’s just gross. It’s nothing. Willow’s into making lotions, she’s on some organic kick. I think it’s something to do with being a witch and taking from the earth. She asked me to test some. Thinking about selling it as protection in a bottle. Gotta love e-bay!” she babbled an explanation.

Silence hung between the pair as they continued to scope out the blobby demon. Buffy so wasn’t thinking about her mother or her sister, or the fact that she even contemplated telling Spike about the pregnancy. Nope, no confession was brewing on her lips.

“Spike,” Buffy stilled for a moment not sure just what to say, her brain and mouth doing battle. She wanted to scream at him for being so… so non-vampire like, and causing so many emotions to stir within her. Why couldn’t they stick to the script? – Slayer meet vampire, vampire challenges slayer, vampire meets a dusty end. That was simple, but this… well. “There’s, I mean…a…I think there’s something you should know.”

‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’ Buffy’s brain shouted at her. Her eyes darted around the piles of scrap looking for a distraction, anything that would stop her from saying something she knew she’d later regret. There! The blobby demon! Yay! Relief flooded through Buffy giving her a reason to actually shut up. She had a demon to slay.

Spike followed her gaze spying what had side tracked the Slayer from… what? A confession? But what about? He’d file that away for later examination, right now they had a demon to kill.

The duo steadily advanced upon the blob as it rose up from the junk it was weeding through, spotting them in the distance. Buffy hesitated.

“You do know how to kill the slimy bugger, yeah?” Spike questioned, as he regarded her with apprehension.

“Yes…” Buffy vehemently asserted followed by a, “No.” She sighed, hating to admit the embarrassing truth. “Giles hasn’t gotten that far in the research department. We couldn’t even find its picture.”

Spike groaned, this had to be a joke. Was this the same slayer he’d fought countless times? The only slayer he’d faced whom he couldn’t defeat and drain. Now she was standing here, admitting she had no bloody clue as to how to slay this particular demon. Just great.

“You pulling my chain Slayer?” From the look Buffy sent him, Spike knew that she wasn’t. “You gotta take out its eye.” He managed to say without any sarcasm.

“Its eye?” Buffy uttered quite perplexed. The thing had no face, how the hell was she supposed to find its eye?

The vampire pointed to the bulge on its stomach, Buffy nodded her thanks and ran towards the demon.

“I still can’t believe you knew how to kill that thing and never told me.” She protested pushing her slime-covered hair out of her face. Sending Spike another evil glare she added, “And you could have warned me about it blowing up like that! ‘Oh, hit it in the eye’ Hello! Pressure on eye makes blob go ka-boom.”

“Oi, Slayer, I don’t sound like that!” Spike paused to smirk at Buffy before continuing. “Besides where’s the fun in that, luv? I’m evil; it’s what I do. An’ you never asked for my help, how was I s’posed to know you lot couldn’t figure out what it was?”

Buffy mumbled under her breath about stubborn vampires not sharing important information, and the best way to get slime out of leather, when Spike interrupted her tiny rant.

“You wanna finish telling me what you started saying earlier?”

Giving the thought due considerate Buffy decided against the admission. “No! It wasn’t anything important anyway.”

Spike stared at her for some time, taking in her increased heartbeat and the nervousness that radiated off of her in waves.

“If it were nothing I doubt your pulse would be racing a mile a minute.”

“I said it’s nothing,” Buffy snapped, wanting to get as far away from the topic as possible. So she decided it was time for a change of subject. “If this crap doesn’t come out of my clothes you so owe me! I hope you can find work.” She barked, flicking some slime in his direction.

Spike growled a warning at her before pressing ahead. “Know what this is about,” he proclaimed, advancing on her small form.

“Know? About what?” Buffy questioned, taking a step back and bumping into a compact mountain of crushed scrap metal. And really hating how that small quiver clung to her voice.

Spike placed his hands on each side of Buffy’s head. Staring into her hazel orbs, he searched for an answer. Buffy wanted to look away, she really did; well she convinced herself that she did. But Spike’s blue eyes drew her into their fathomless depths.

“You. Me. Us. You telling me you don’t feel it, Slayer? You didn’t enjoy me pounding into you tight little quim? How you withered beneath me begging for more. Whose name spilled from your lips as you came, Slayer? Whose? It was mine, because I’m in you and you crave me.” Spike whispered in her ear, his voice husky sending tremors down her spine. Buffy cursed as her treacherous body turned against her, Spike’s words shooting straight to her core, making her hot. There was something seriously wrong when the evil undead turned you on, and a body with pumping blood did little to compare. He moved his hand, curling a lock of her golden tresses around his finger. Buffy found herself leaning in, wishing it was her skin being touched by his cool fingers.

Snapping out of her stupor and faking an air of impassiveness, Buffy shrugged off Spike’s hand. “Can’t say that I had. Hadn’t crossed my mind at all. No! Nope! Haven’t felt a thing.” Buffy lied with a straight face, ‘cause, hello, she could feel Spike’s reaction to their close proximity, since his pelvis was getting pretty intimate with her at the moment. And darn, if it didn’t make her feel all weak at the knees.

“I was in pain, confused… and… confused,” she protested lamely. Because there was no way the Slayer would admit that she had turned to her mortal enemy in her time of need. But she had turned to him, just what did that say about her?

The fragrance radiating off of Buffy was driving Spike crazy. And now, being so close to her, he found himself being overwhelmed by the stimulating sensations. The spicy scent of frankincense, the sweet smell of lavender, and the musky aroma of sandalwood were his undoing. Buffy knew that look in his eyes all to well, and she was powerless to stop him. So transfixed by the intensity of Spike’s gaze that she gasped at first contact. Spike took advantage of Buffy’s parted lips and slipped inside. His cool tongue swept the inside of her mouth; it was calming and possessing all at once. The act thrilled her, sending tiny shock waves of pleasure trailing down her spine. Buffy was lost to all sensation as the kiss intensified.

Time seemed to stand still as Spike worked his will upon her. No longer was Buffy aware of the slime in her hair, or the state of her leather pants, but just the feel of those velvety smooth lips. Cool fingers dancing over her ultra-sensitive skin. The feel of his muscular back as her hand slipped under his T-shirt. The small growl that came from Spike’s throat as Buffy rocked herself against his erection.  

God, she wanted this, she wanted Spike. She wanted to feel him thrusting deep inside of her once again, to have his strong arms around her as she climaxed. Buffy wanted all that Spike had to offer, and that scared her. It scared her to her core. And that realization was like a bucket of cold water being poured upon her sex-crazed brain. Buffy’s eyes shot open as she absorbed what she was pondering. It was wrong and sick, and disgusting. What was wrong with her? Trying to bury the hatchet with Spike was one thing, but the desire to get horizontal, or up against a tree, or a wall, with him was totally another matter. One, which she told herself, she didn’t want to visit.

Buffy pushed Spike away at the shoulders as she vigorously wiped at her swollen lips. She was pissed. Because hello, Spike was all with the seducing dirty talk, and the deep sexy voice. Not only that, but here she was acting like some sex starved hormonal teenager with the moaning and the groping. And Buffy was pretty sure she had just got up close and personal with a very intimate part of Spike. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Forget they ever slept together. All she wanted to do was lock her budding feelings for him away in a small box and toss away the key. Really, was that too much to ask for?

“You!” Buffy exclaimed pointing a finger at the vampire standing before her. “You don’t get to come here, tell me how to kill a demon, and then start with the seducing. It doesn’t work like that. There will be no seducing of the Slayer, got that?” She finished as Spike just stared at her. Slowly he tilted his head to the side, as his trademark smirk slid into place, followed by the arch of is scared brow. Buffy swallowed hard trying to fight the slight blush that spread over her cheeks. Mentally counting to three she pressed on. “Because this is wrong… very, very wrong!” she spat, still wiping at her mouth. “None of this ever happened.”

“You don’t think I know this is wrong?” He gestured between the two of them. “A bloody vampire making out with the Slayer! I’m supposed to kill you, bathe in you blood, and dance on your grave. But instead I wanna shag you six ways from Sunday. Don’t you know how demented that is?”

Buffy chose to ignore him and keep on with her rant. “This is all your fault, you do know that don’t you? This whole thing, you with the not listening, and coming back here to try and kill me. You should have stayed with Dru doing stupid vampire things, and left me with my semi normal life blissfully forgetting about you. But no, you had to come back; you had to get that stupid thing in your head.”

Spike glared at the Slayer, calculating how far he would get if he ripped her arm off and beat her over the head with it before the chip fried his brain. Yeah, the Slayer was all he could think about, dream about, but her mouth was her down fall, if she could only learn to keep it shut. “My fault? Right. Like I set out to get this bleeding chip in my head. I never volunteered to be Uncle Sam’s lab vamp, pet. You’re the reason for all of this, so don’t go pointing fingers at me. If you just died like a good little slayer, well, let’s just say I’d be long gone by now. Should’ve killed you when I had the chance, not take pity on you.”

“Yeah, well… what?” Buffy paused to process his words, understanding dawning on her. Did he just say he took pity on her? Oh no he didn’t! “You came to my house to kill me? And how were you going to do that, glare at me all night and hope I’d drop dead?” She had taken on a defensive stance, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, was gonna blow your pretty little head off. You pissed me off royally, so I was going to get even.”

Okay, why did the idea of Spike’s desire to blow her brains out make Buffy want to cry? He was evil, and killing slayers was his thing. Maybe taking Spike down memory lane wasn’t one of the brightest ideas she’d ever had, but she needed to know how he beat two slayers. So in retrospect it was a good idea. Wasn’t her fault Spike couldn’t handle the truth. Maybe she did want to dance, just not with him; dream Spike was fine, but not the real deal. So maybe Buffy had been a bitch to him, but he was invading her personal space, wanting to play tonsil hockey. She was under a lot of pressure, with the whole staked by a vamp in the stomach, then her mom packing for a sleep over in the hospital. Spike had over stepped his bounds; it was his entire fault. So caught in her musings Buffy momentarily forgot why she was upset. ‘Gun. Spike. Shoot.’ She reminded herself, anger flaring once more in her eyes. Nobody shot at Buffy Summers, it was in some handbook, most likely the slayer one which she’d never received.

“You should have killed me, because what we did, what I let you do to me was wrong, and disgusting. You’re disgusting, and I’m disgusted with myself for even letting you near me. God, I’m so twisted.” Buffy spat every word out with venom. She wanted to convince the both of them that her feelings hadn’t changed towards Spike. That she still thought of him as the cold, vicious killer that he truly was. Not someone or something that could hurt her with words or actions. Because if she admitted that then she’d have to admit everything she’d ever learned was wrong, which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Hurt, anger, and rejection flashed over Spike’s face. Turning his gaze hard he glared at her. Granted, he could no longer go at Buffy with fists and fangs, but he still could cut her down with words. The Big Bad could play dirty.

“Yeah, well, Peaches was right.” He paused, turning an icy blue gaze to an angered hazel one, a twisted smile in place. “You were good but not that good. Wouldn’t call you the worst fuck of my life, but I’ve had better. No wonder solider boy went to get his rocks…”

Fist connected with nose and the sound of bone crunching filled the deserted scrap yard. The force sent the vampire staggering back a few feet. Buffy was pissed, her chest felt tight, and her breathing was coming in large ragged gasps. She fought hard to ward off the tears that wanted to spill. ‘Not going to give him the satisfaction.’ Spike was used to seeing two emotions coming off the Slayer, anger and contempt. But hurt and betrayal was something new to him. He stood there quite baffled as he absently wiped at the trickle of blood from his nose before bringing it to his lips.

“Slayer, Buffy…” the bewildered vampire began.

Buffy turned on her heels and stormed away. Spike started to go after her, but hesitated. What was he going to do, apologize? Tell her how sorry he was? Well, that wouldn’t float; the Big Bad didn’t say ‘I’m sorry’ to the Slayer, just didn’t happen. Besides, if he did catch up with her, well, Spike was quite sure he wouldn’t meet his dusty end, chipped or not.

“Slayer!” he yelled after her. Buffy responded by giving him the bird before picking up her pace. ‘Just couldn’t keep your big mouth shut. Could you?’

The vibration coming from his coat pocket interrupted Spike’s thoughts. Retrieving his cell phone he glanced at the caller ID before answering, “Joyce?”

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Buffy had jogged three blocks from the scrap yard, certain that Spike would follow her. She was hurt, angry and upset, and quite sure that if he followed her she would stake him.

Just why was Buffy so thrown by Spike’s words? She didn’t want to ponder it further. He was an evil soulless vampire, so saying cruel and hurtful things came with the package. But for some reason, having him throw the night she’d spent with Angel in her face stung… a lot. Not only had her former honey discussed their brief sexual encounter with Spike, but he’d also described what he thought about her in bed. Buffy wasn’t sure if she was more angered by embarrassment or betrayal. It didn’t help that Parker had treated her just as badly; minus the whole trying to kill her loved ones, but still. The tears stung her eyes as she fought to keep them at bay. It was a futile effort, for all she put forth to stop them the faster they rolled down her cheeks.

She felt him before she heard him. Spike started to call her name as she swiped at the tears.

“You better have news of an apocalypse, Spike. Or prepare to be plant food.” She threatened, even though she didn’t have it in her to carry through with the threat. Buffy was tired; she just wanted to go back to her dorm room and sleep.

After receiving Joyce’s phone call Spike wasted no time in reaching the Slayer. Even pissed off slayer speed was nothing compared to a vampire’s natural agility and he had soon caught up with her. He was immediately confronted with the smell of her tears, carried to him by the slight breeze. Knowing Buffy wouldn’t fancy him seeing her cry he called out to her, warning of his approach. But why was she crying? It couldn’t be from what he said, could it? And why did he even care?

‘Because you love her you git.’

“Your mum just called me. Dawn hasn’t come home yet an’ she wanted to know if we could check up on her.”

Okay, two things struck Buffy as odd. One, Spike said her mom called him, and two, he called Dawn by her real name, not like some pet name he used for most people. This could only mean one thing - something was up.

Buffy turned to face the vampire, hoping her eyes weren’t too swollen and red from her hormonal cry fest just a moment ago. “Dawn isn’t back yet?” Buffy asked. “And just how did my mom call you? You two set up some pigeon messenger service or something?”

Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out the flip cell phone.

“You have a cell phone?” Buffy exclaimed. “Why do you have a cell and I don’t? And more importantly, why is my mom calling you of all people? She goes to Spike for help before she comes to me,” she mumbled with a huff, before snatching the offered device.

“We’ll discus my cell phone and who I give my number to after you ring your mum,” Spike snarled back. Like he would ever give the Slayer his number, please.

Buffy flipped the phone closed after speaking with Joyce. Her mother had confirmed all that Spike had relayed just moments ago.

“Mom said that they were supposed to go to a movie then stop for a bite to eat. Do you think you can track them?”

“Get me to the theater and I’ll take it from there.” Spike paused a moment. “Only helping ‘cause Joyce asked, and for the Bit.”

Buffy nodded her head in agreement and started off in the direction of downtown, not giving voice to her thoughts. She was glad he had decided to help her, because trying to track Dawn without any help and on such sort notice would be very hard. Not to mention the convenience of the cell phone. Spike soon fell into step beside her as they walked in silence.

“Spike?”

“What, Slayer?”

“Can I see your phone?”

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