Buffy had thought that having Riley stay over would help her sleep. To have him there with her. To calm her. Comfort her. But it hadn't. She had taken a quick shower to get all that hospital yuckiness off of her. She hated hospitals. They smelt like death and sickness and urine. And yet she always seemed to wind up in them for one reason or another.

When she walked into her bedroom, Riley was in bed under the covers. She hoped he was already asleep. She was glad he had agreed to spend the night, but she didn't feel much like the sexiness. She really just needed his body in bed with her. His warmth. His presence.

But he hadn't been sleeping. When she lay down beside him, he started to caress her shoulders. Run his hands down her bare arms.

"You're so tense," he whispered to her.

"Yeah. Well. Kinda been through a lot today. And the day before that and the day before that and, oh yeah, the day before that. I really just need to rest."

"I can help you work off some of that tension, if you want," he murmured kissing her neck, her shoulder.

"Not tonight, Riley. I'm sorry. I'm just not really in the mood."

"Its fine, Buffy. I'll leave you alone. You've you a lot on your mind. Just thought I could help. Goodnight." And he rolled onto his side facing away from her.

"Sorry." She whispered into the darkness, but there was no answer.

She was sorry. She hadn't meant to insult him with her rebuff. She just really didn't feel like sex. He could at least try to be a little understanding. Of course she didn't want to have sex. She had just spent all day with her mom in the hospital. Her mom who was very sick. Who could die. Not exactly the kind of day that gets your libido revving.

Still she hadn't meant to insult him. "Riley?" she whispered, trying to determine if he was still awake. A snore from his side of the bed was her only reply. But it was enough of an answer.

She nudged him with her elbow. "Riley. You're snoring. Roll over," she muttered hoarsely. He mumbled something and rolled onto his back, which only made the snoring worse.

She lay in bed for a half an hour, but the snoring did not abate. She tried nudging him a few more times, but it didn't seem to do anything. She was having a hard enough time falling asleep lately, and she didn't think the buzz saw next to her head was helping. "Screw it," she said to herself. And she got up from her bed and made her way down stairs, stopping at the linen closet to pick up a couple of pillows and blankets. She would just sleep on the couch. Maybe then she would at least get a couple hours of shut eye.

Buffy quickly made up the couch and flopped down on it. Not as comfy as her bed, but it wasn't bad for a couch. And at least it was quiet. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. The breath in. The breath out. The breath in. The breath out. This kind of meditation sometimes helped her to unwind. To clear her mind. To fall to sleep. She could feel herself settling into unconsciousness…

A noise in the kitchen jolted her awake. Back to consciousness. Back to reality.

Who the hell was in her house? She so did not need any evil intrusions. Not tonight. Not after everything. She silently got up from the couch and quietly padded her way into the kitchen.

In the darkness she could make out a familiar black leather coat. Spike. Great. Possibly the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. Except maybe Glory. No. Even less than Glory. Glory might be evil. Might be after Dawn. Might want to kill her and could if she tried. But at least she wasn't as irritating, as annoying, as the bleached vampire.

And why was he rifling through her kitchen cabinets?

"So, what, you've upgraded from lurking to actual breaking and entering?"

"Didn't need to break anything. Like most of this sodden town, Slayer, you seem to feel secure leaving your door unlocked for any beastie to wander through," he said, slowly turning around and shoving something into a coat pocket.

"And you are exhibit A. I should definitely change my locks. Keep you out for good. Its creepy. You're creepy, Spike. I don't want you in my home. When everyone is sleeping. Its... icky."

"Nothing to get all worked up about, Summers. I'm not here for you."

"Right. Because when evil shows up in my house, it generally has nothing to do with me. I'm the Slayer, Spike, I tend to attract evil."

"As if," he scoffed, "What kind of nasties would ever be attracted to you, Summers. No self-respecting demon, I can tell you that. Look at you thinking every evil thing in this sodden town wants to shag you, take you for a tumble. Please. Not very likely," he snorted.

"Ew. No. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant. You know what I meant. No shagging or tumbles or anything else like that," Buffy blushed.

"Believe it or not, Buffy, the world doesn't revolve around you. Not even the underworld does. There is plenty of evil to be done without even considering you, Slayer. Its not like you're all a vampire thinks about or anything. Sometimes a vampire just wants something for himself okay, nothing to do with you."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and got that annoyed look that he found so irritatingly sexy. She was wearing a pair of little black shorts and a white tank top that he could almost see through. No bra. God, he wanted her so bad, it was disgusting. "What, you're here for my little sister. Because, ew, Spike, even creepier."

"No. Not the Niblet."

"Then why are you here? And make it quick. I'm not playing around here. If you can't give me one good reason why you are here, in my kitchen, annoying me. I'll stake you with a wooden spoon, or something. Might stake you even if you do."

"Yeah, yeah, Slayer. Never heard that one before. In fact, I think you already have threatened me with some sort of kitchen utensil. Not your best work."

"The point, Spike. Are you getting to it? Or do I need to get something pointy and woody to take care of you."

Spike sighed theatrically and pulled two white rectangles out of his coat pocket, holding them up. "This was all I came for. Not here for the Niblet. And definitely not here to be near your precious self. As if I'd want to be anywhere near you..." he trailed off, scoffing again at the idea.

"Whatever, Spike. What the hell are those? Are you stealing? You are. You are stealing from me. You broke into my house and you're stealing from me."

"Oh please, Buffy. Will you get off it? I'll put the bloody things back. I don't need this, right now. Not from you of all people. Just sod off, Slayer, and leave me alone."

"Leave you alone? In case you hadn't noticed, Spike, you're the one who broke into my house while I was sleeping. Let me see what you needed so badly you had to make with the burgalriness."

He sighed again, even more dramatically this time, and slid the two rectangles he was holding across the counter to her. She picked them up, examining them before rolling her eyes.

"Swiss Miss? With Marshmallows? You broke into my house to steal instant hot chocolate. You are the lamest vampire ever."

"Am not. That distinction goes to your former, pet. Angel is much lamer than I am. And he has stupid hair."

"Yeah, and your hair isn't?"

"No. It completes the look. I'm a rebel. Bad boy, you know."

"No, you're lame. Enough. I'm not here to discuss your poor fashion choices, or the fact that grand theft coco hardly qualifies you as a big bad. What kind of demented game are you playing, Spike?"

"No game, Buffy. Just wanted some, is all."

"Aren't there any gas stations or something you could have stolen them from? Why the hell come here? Petty larceny doesn't fulfill your annoyingness quota or something?"

"I came here because she got them for me, okay? Thought it would make me feel better."

"Who got them for you? Dawn? That girl is completely out of control."

"No. Not Dawn. How daft are you, Slayer? I mean really, do I need to spell it out for you? Your mum. Your mum bought the coco for me."

"My mum... mom," she quickly corrected herself. "My mom bought hot chocolate for you?"

"Well, yeah. She knew I fancied it."

"What were you doing with my mom, Spike? If you hurt her, ever, I will kill you."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Summers. Talkin' is all. Stop by every once in a while for a chat. I like the lady. She is always decent to me. Never treats me like a monster or a freak. So I stop by. You probably never noticed because you were too busy with you slaying or your friends or snoggin' Captain America, but Joyce was lonely. Specially at night, after the Little Bit went to bed. So I stop by, and she makes me cuppa coco. And we talk."

Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes. She hadn't noticed. Because, just as Spike had said, she had been away doing all those things. She had been so busy worrying about her own stupid life, she had forgotten all about her mother's. She had been a lousy daughter. And now it might be too late to fix it. She could lose her mother without letting her know how much she loved her. How much she needed her.

Buffy glared at Spike. He had no right. He had no right to come into her home and make her feel like this. She hated him. And every time she saw him she hated him a little bit more. She wished he would just get that stupid chip out of his head so she could get rid of him, be done with him, once and for all. The things she would do to him if only he could hit back. Then he wouldn't be so pathetic. Then she wouldn't have to feel bad about killing him.

She wasn't going to cry in front of him. Not again. Stupid vampire. Stupid evil vampire. Why was he here? Why did he show up right when she was her most miserable. She hated him. And she hated to show any weakness in front of him. She wasn't going to cry. But even as she thought it, the tears were already trickling down her cheeks.

Besides, she shouldn't be able to cry. She hadn't been. Not in front of her mom. Or Dawn. Or even Riley. She knew she had to be strong. And she had been. She hadn't cried. So how come she could cry in front of Spike? He was her enemy. A vampire. An evil vampire. She had to be strong in front of him. He was an enemy. She couldn't let him see her be weak and weepy. So what was with all the weakness, the tears? How come could she let herself go, be fragile and feeble and vulnerable in front of him?

She must just be too tired of being so strong. It had all been too much for her. Her frailty had caught up to her. And unfortunately it had done so in front of her mortal enemy. Stupid weakness.

He looked at her the way he had a few nights ago. When he had found her sitting on her deck steps, crying. He had been coming to kill her. She was pretty certain. After all, he had a gun. And he probably could have. She hadn't put up a fight. She hadn't moved when she saw him. She'd been a sitting duck. But instead of killing her, he had asked her if there was anything he could do for her. Do to help. And in a moment of pure weirdness, he had sat down next to her, and gently, awkwardly, placed his hand on her back. It had been such a simple human gesture that she had let him.

And now he was looking at her the same way. With a similar look of compassion, concern. It was unsettling. He was her sworn enemy. If he ever got that chip out he would try to kill her. Again. He would kill her friends, her sister, her mom. No one would be safe around him. And it would be her job, her duty, to kill him. She was the Slayer, after all. She couldn't have him, a vampire, looking at her like that. Couldn't let him see her being weak and vulnerable. She couldn't cry in front of him. Not again.

"You need to go," she told him icily.

"Buffy, pet, Slayer," he said, moving closer to her. "Those things I said. Don't mind them. Didn't mean them. Just being evil and all. Vampire, you know. But, you aren't a bad daughter."

She should tell him to leave, insist on it. "No, Spike. I am. I put my mom through so much. All the times I got in trouble. Or didn't come home. All the times I almost died. And now, when it counts, I can't do anything."

Spike nodded. He was close enough to touch her now, and he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, looking intently into her tear stricken face. "Now you listen to me, Buffy. I know you're a fighter, the chosen one, she with the pointy sticks and all, but there are some things you can't fight. Not with fists anyway. But you've still got your strength, love. And with that you'll help your mum and little sis and you'll get through this."

She looked up at him, her lip quivering, tears brimming in her eyes. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Must be a glitch with the sodden chip or something. I still want to kill you, Slayer."

"I know. But thanks."

"For what?"

"For not killing me the other night."

He grinned, "Thanks for implying that I could."

"I think I could go for some hot coco right about now."