"Giles?"

"You heard. Why are you whispering?"

"I'm in the bathroom." Andrew switched the phone to his other ear. "Buffy's here."

"Ah. If I might ask, what method..."

"Box of Cap'n Crunch."

Giles' laugh, flattened by the phone lines, still smoothed the edges of Andrew's fear. "And I received mine around a can of 'Old English 800'. The boy does not change."

"Giles..."

"Yes?"

"Do I tell Buffy now?"

A heavy sigh. "Not yet. I'll... make inquiries. But do call Dawn, and... perhaps it would be best if Buffy ended her date for the evening."

Andrew shot a glance of pure dread across the apartment. "Can't I just... can't I tell her? You don't understand, Giles, I'm her roommate, she's gonna blame me the most..."

"Andrew." Giles' voice made Andrew sit up a little straighter. "We ripped her out of heaven once. I'd rather not do it again until we have to."

And... dial tone.

"So it's armageddon, would a little etiquette kill you people?" Andrew groused, hitting the "end" button.

'Ripped her out of heaven'. Easy for Giles to say. Like Andrew wasn't going to have to go rip her out of heaven right now...

A loud shriek of delight penetrated the bathroom.

"Thanks for backin' me up there, Buff."

Andrew crossed back into the kitchen, casting a longing glance at his still-dry cereal bowl before setting the phone back into its cradle and padding barefoot across the living room. Buffy was not going to be happy about this...

He parked himself in front of her door, shoving his hands in his pockets... then reconsidering. He might need to defend himself. "Buffy?"

No answer. Well, unless you counted kittenish moans as an answer, which Andrew was usually happy to... just not in this particular situation.

He pumped up his volume. "Buffy?"

Another moan.

"BUFFY!"

Moan-squeak-moan.

"Screw it," he muttered, flinging the door open...

And froze, staring.

"Spike?" Andrew breathed. "When did you get here?"

Buffy and Spike turned to look at him in shock, Spike's hair darkening, the sharp edges of his features softening... until The Immortal lay atop Buffy, staring at Andrew impatiently.

"T-there's business," Andrew stammered. "I-I'm about to call Dawn, and..."

"Right," Buffy snapped, her all-business tone at war with her flaming red cheeks. "I'm afraid I'll have to..."

"S'alright, carissima," The Immortal stroked her cheek. "I will be on my way."

He bent his lips to Buffy's, and Andrew flinched, pivoting on his heel. "I'll be... out there. Where, uh, the stuff is. And stuff."

-----------------

"Who'd you have to sell your soul to for the Cap'n Crunch?"

Andrew looked up, mouth full of nuggety goodness. "Xander."

"He's in the States? I thought he was in Africa..." Buffy twisted her hair up, securing it with a barrette, all visible trace of her earlier embarrassment gone.

"He's doing some research. It's an eyeball thing."

"Oh, damn. I thought he was kinda dashing as a pirate." Buffy eyed Andrew's bowl. "You in a sharing mood?"

"Might be," Andrew swallowed. "If you are. You wanna tell me something?"

"You've got Crunch on your shirt."

"I was thinking something a bit taller, fangier, bleachier..."

Buffy's gaze averted, and she reached into the cabinet for a bowl. "It's one of his talents. He can take the form of anyone he's tasted, and he used to know Spike..."

"I know," Andrew took the opportunity of Buffy's turned back to slide Xander's note into his pocket.

"How?"

"Huh?"

"How do you know?"

Andrew studied his cereal intently. "He, ah, told me. So, uh... does he take the form of Angel, too? That's some kinky sex game you guys got."

"He knew Angel?"

"Knew 'em both," Andrew said, turning around and licking his spoon. "Gotta say, I'm intrigued that you never requested that one of his talents..."

"I said I missed Spike, he offered," Buffy snapped. "If I want to see Angel, I can get on a plane."

"Missed Spike, eh?" Andrew's grin was rapidly approaching smirk.

"The man burned to a crisp for me, I'm allowed a little gratitude."

"Gratitude. So all that moaning was your way of saying 'Hey, platonic buddy, thanks for closing the Hellmouth'? Couldn't you have just taken Bizarro Spike out for a nice dinner?"

"My and Spike's relationship was... complicated." Buffy brandished her spoon in Andrew's face. "And don't sing the song, you are not required to sing the song every time I..."

"Oh, I wouldn't." Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Seeing the way he's acting like he's somebody else didn't seem to be getting you... frustrated at all."

Buffy growled, low in her throat. "What's the business?"

"Eh?"

"That you're calling Dawn home for? That I interrupted my date for?"

"We have to wait for Giles to call me back."

Buffy groaned. "Couldn't you at least... sum up?"

"There might be a... situation in the States."

"Angel?"

"Yeah, and... some others."

Buffy leaned against the counter, sighing. "I thought it was too quiet over there. It's not like Angel to not pop up to brood when I have a boyfriend. Guess he's busy... I haven't heard from him in a long time."

"Yeah... he's... busy. I'm sure Giles will fill us in."

Buffy turned her attention to her cereal, and Andrew's spine relaxed.

"Andrew?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever... well, this is kinda awkward, huh. But uh -- have you ever thought thought about some, uh, therapy?"

"I'm not the one having my shape-shifter boyfriend..."

"This isn't about that. Do you remember what you said when you walked in?"

"Uh... no..."

"You said, 'Spike, when did you get here?'... like, surprised, but oh-gosh-surprised, not 'holy crap, there's a dead vampire in Buffy's bed' kind of surprised."

"We Jedi control our emotions."

"Stuff it, Andrew. I think you haven't accepted that Spike and Anya are gone."

"I haven't accepted? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the one playing sick little dress-up games with..."

"Fine. Fine, we'll drop it."

"Thank you." Andrew couldn't contain the leer. "So, this Immortal... he didn't happen to feed on Carrie Fisher around the time of 'Return of the Jedi', did he?"