Made for fun, not for profit. The Buffyverse belongs to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon, I just like to play there.

Please read and review, let me know if you like the way this story is unfolding.

"I have been in love with one princess or another almost all my life,

And I hope I shall go on so, till I die, being firmly persuaded,

That if ever I do a mean action, it must be in some interval betwixt one passion and another."

~ Laurence Sterne

13 – Morning After

Heavy footsteps coming down the stairs... Someone breathing, their heart rate suddenly increasing… More footsteps, coming closer and then moving away again, but not back the way they had come... Water running, the hiss and sizzle of cooking, a teakettle whistling… The smell of milk, Weetabix, eggs and tea…

The sensory information gradually coalesced, registering in Spike's mind as a far-off alarm, possibly even as a reason for him to really wake up and leave the couch. Well, that wasn't gonna happen. If there was danger, it would find him sooner or later, and until it did, he was content to stay exactly where he was. No point rousing himself just yet.

Spike hitched his blanket higher over one shoulder and settled in again. He kept his eyes closed but listened for anything that might signal trouble. Much as he didn't want to be awake yet, he didn't want to be caught unawares, either.

Footsteps - male, judging by the heavy tread - moved towards him again. Had to be Giles, but what was he up to? There was a distinctly masculine 'harumph' of equally distinct displeasure from somewhere above him, followed by a grumble as the footsteps moved off. A metallic click, the creak of hinges quickly drowned out by obnoxious birdsong… A soft wooden thump followed by a different sort of click, and Spike was left to drift back to sleep without any further distractions.

Sometime later, Spike felt himself coming awake again. Warm fingers were gently carding through his hair and tracing little patterns over his scalp. It was a pleasant sensation, but he was tired and didn't want to be woken up, so he shifted his position and clumsily batted a hand at the offending digits, muttering dire and utterly unintelligible threats. He refused to open his eyes, since that would be a step towards waking up, but a few seconds of blindly moving his hand around seemed to work. At least, the warm fingers didn't try to rouse him again, so he declared himself the victor and settled deeper into the couch, smiling to himself.

His latest attempt at getting back to sleep was sabotaged by a drowsy but familiar female voice. "Spike, I'm about to make myself breakfast. If you want some doctored blood, you'll need to sit up. Or, at least, y' know… say something."

He cracked one eye open, grumbling but not bothering to move. "'M bloody knackered, Sam. Y'couldn'ta just lemme sleep?"

Spike realized that he was practically whingeing, but he didn't much care. First decent bit of sleep he'd had in a fortnight, and while it had been wonderful, such a short span of rest had only served to fully shift his body out of 'run-for-your-unlife' mode and into 'rest, eat and heal' mode. Now the tiredness was hitting him all at once, and the last thing he wanted to do was try to stay conscious. Instead, every instinct was screaming at him to curl back under the blanket, let his eyes close and rest his suddenly all-too-heavy head on the cushions. Of course, the blood he'd had the previous night had done something similar to his appetite, and as he reluctantly felt himself becoming more alert, the hunger which he'd managed to push aside while he was on the run began vying with sleep deprivation for his full attention. Exhaustion versus starvation… which one would win out?

"And good morning to you, too." She smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder. "If you want, you can go right back to sleep after you've had a few mugs."

"A'right, pet." Spike settled in again, letting his eyes close. He could stay comfy and nab a few winks while she set up the blood. He frowned to himself, suddenly feeling the same confusing mix of gratitude, affection and mistrust which he had the night before. He shook his head at his own foolishness. Doubting her wouldn't get him anywhere, and he wanted to enjoy being with her, consequences be damned. He'd keep his guard up for a while, or at least try to, but he wasn't going to throw away the chance to be with her.

She started chuckling to herself as she moved towards the kitchen. "Should'a figured you wouldn't be a morning person."

"Ha bloody ha, luv."

Her tone was conversational as she went on, "Just sayin', it makes sense. Creature of the night and all that stuff."

Instead of replying, Spike grumbled softly to himself as he listened to Sam putter around the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers.

He must have drifted back to sleep at some point, because it seemed like just a few moments later that Sam was giving his temple a soft kiss. He opened his eyes in time to see that she had just sat on the coffee table and there was a tray with four mugs of gently steaming butcher's blood next to her.

She smiled and rested a warm hand on his shoulder when he blinked up at her in confusion. "C'mon, Spike. Soup's on."

He could smell the aroma of fried eggs and toast lingering in the air, but he hadn't heard her cooking anything, and when he sat up to get a look at the kitchen he spotted dirty dishes in the sink. Huh. He must have been out for the count while she set up and ate her own breakfast. Hell, he hadn't even heard the microwave go off when she heated the blood for him.

"Thanks, pet." He leaned back against the couch arm, sandwiching the throwpillow between himself and the carved wooden armrest so he could at least be comfy while he had breakfast. After settling in, he shot her a wary look. "How long was I out?"

Still smiling, Sam handed him a mug and then glanced at the small clock Giles kept on his side table. "About half an hour." She looked back from the clock in time to see him grimace. Her expression turned softer and she frowned sympathetically. "You must have needed the rest."

Spike shook his head slightly before taking a mouthful of his breakfast. "Great. I'm a bleedin' invalid."

She gave a small, irritated sigh. "Spike, you're injured and underfed, plus you've been on the run for weeks. Of course you're gonna need to rest more than usual. Now, I don't know how long it takes vamps to heal, but any human with your injuries would be looking at a long hospital stay. You're a survivor, vamp constitution or not. So, lets just deal with one thing at a time." Her smile came back as she leaned forward and patted his knee. "How's your head?"

He shrugged, polishing off the mug of paprika-spiced pig's blood. "Better'n last night, I guess. 'M not seein' stars or comin' over queasy," he handed off the empty mug, swapped it for a full one and sat back again, gently touching his free hand to the bandage on his temple "but…" He trailed off with a wince.

Sam made a sympathetic sound and finished the thought for him. "Still a long way from feeling like yourself."

He nodded without making eye contact and kept drinking his breakfast, noting that Sam had warmed the plasma to above human body temperature so it would be more potable. The spices helped a bit, since they masked some of the bitterness, but they couldn't turn pig's blood into human. Still, Sam was going out of her way to help, and being an ungrateful git would be a quick way to drive her away, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

Before either of them could say anything else, the front door opened. Spike recognized Giles' footfall right away and turned to watch as his reluctant host walked in. The morning paper was tucked under Giles' arm, its pages well thumbed, and he was carrying a small assortment of dirty dishes. The man must have eaten his breakfast outside and killed as much time as he could by reading the news. At least the tosser hadn't staked him on sight when he came downstairs.

"Morning, Giles."

Sam's voice was oddly cold, and Spike turned to look at her. Her face was set in a neutral mask, but there was a hard glint in her eye. Spike remembered how angry she had been at Giles the previous night when she found him trussed up and bloody in the watcher's study, and he smirked to himself. Giles seemed surprised by the greeting and her confrontational body language as she stood up. Looked like watcher boy had no idea what he was in for. Spike smiled at the rim of his coffee mug. This should be fun.

Sam crossed her arms, staring daggers at the tall Englishman as she planted herself between Giles and the hallway which the kitchen branched off of. "So, anything you want to tell me about what happened after I went to bed last last?"

Giles tensed slightly, but he didn't try to get past her. Instead, he stepped to the breakfast bar and put his dishes down there. "Perhaps I should be asking you the same thing." His voice was level, controlled, but judging by the bulging vein in his temple and twitching muscle in his jaw, he was far from calm. "Last night you agreed that I have the right to feel safe in my own home, and then as I slept you unchained a known killer and left him free to —"

Sam cut him off, her eyes going wide as she gestured at the living room area. "He hasn't moved from the couch since the last time I saw him. It's one thing to be cautious, but beating him senseless and chaining him up when he can't defend himself isn't — "

"Is that what you think happened?" Giles looked and sounded genuinely surprised.

Sam glared up at him, all fire and righteous indignation. "What am I supposed to think? Last night I went to bed, thinking that you were seeing things my way, and a few hours later I find him chained up and bloody. The math wasn't hard."

Giles aimed a poisonous frown at Spike and then continued speaking to Sam as though they were the only two in the room. "I've no idea what he told you, but I didn't strike him. I merely encouraged him —"

"You mean 'encouraged' me with a crossbow?" Spike interrupted. Letting Sam give Giles what-for was alright, but that didn't mean he was just gonna sit back and let the watcher pretend like he wasn't right there. "I dunno what happened after you got me into the study, Watcher, but I've got a hunch, an' I'll wager our girl here won't buy that you did nothin' wrong."

Sam flashed Spike a warm look before focusing on her prey again. "He's right. Besides, don't you think the fact that I've spent several hours alone with him and I'm still breathing kind of speaks for itself? Plus, there's all the stuff he told me about the commandos…"

Giles seemed to falter at that, dropping his gaze to the table. "I was pleasantly surprised to find that you had gleaned information about the soldiers' base during the night, but to let him have free rein while we sleep —"

Sam rolled her eyes at him. "Giles, I know for a fact that Spike can't bite anymore, and you clearly read the note I left, so you know that he's holding up his end of the deal. Since he's cooperating and he can't hurt us, there's no reason to treat him like a prisoner." A confident smile spread across her face and she uncrossed her arms, moving towards Giles with her hands on her hips. "In fact, if you don't start cutting him some slack, I've got a feeling that he won't remember anything else about the commandos. So, what's it gonna be?"

'Spike can't bite anymore… he can't hurt us…'

Spike held his tongue as the words gnawed at him. He wanted nothing better than to protest, to argue that he was still a force to be reckoned with, but instead he sat back against the cushions and drank the spiced blood. He knew that Sam was only bringing up his harmlessness so she could convince Giles to stop being so reactionary, but that didn't stop the topic from stinging.

After a few tense moments, he heard Giles give a defeated-sounding sigh. "Are you certain that he can't harm us?"

Sam glared up at Giles, looking as though her patience was about to run out, and gritted her teeth, all but hissing out, "Yes."

Spike balled his free hand into a fist, gritting his teeth with the effort of not saying anything to salvage his 'Big Bad' reputation. This was just too humiliating, but he didn't see a way around it. Sam was looking out for him, and he wasn't going to sabotage that, but the effort of not making any snarky comments was really putting his patience to the test.

Giles quietly 'harumphed'. "Then I concede. So long as you take responsibility for him and he doesn't take any aggressive action, I won't attempt to restrain him again."

Her face softened, and she seemed mollified by Giles' promise. "Okay. I'll hold you to that." She stepped aside, allowing Giles a clear path to the kitchen, and then moved back to the couch again, frowning when she noticed Spike's tight fist. "I miss something?"

Spike forced himself to relax his hand and shrugged. "Just, I bloody hate bein' 'harmless' is all."

She put a concilliatory hand on his leg and he went back to sipping his blood. "You aren't harmless…" She trailed off, seeming at a loss for predictable but encouraging things to say.

After he finished the mug, he looked at her. "'M sorry, pet. I know you're just tryin' ta help me, but havin' it all spelled out like that doesn't exactly do wonders for a bloke's ego."

She nodded slowly, absently running her fingers over a small area of his torn jeans. "Yeah."

There was an uncomfortable pause while he reached for the next full mug. Before he sat back again, Spike looked over at the kitchen and caught sight of Giles frowning. The man quickly turned to face the sink and started doing dishes, and Spike got the distinct impression that the man had been watching them disapprovingly.

When Spike sat back again, Sam was staring at the kitchen. So she and Giles had been glaring at each other until the Watcher had turned away. Interesting.

"You know, I was thinking." She smiled, and he sipped his blood, half listening. "Giles isn't thrilled with us being chummy, and Xander wants me to meet Anya, so they'll be coming over in the afternoon."

Spike really hoped that she had a point. "What about it, pet?"

"With all that going on, you won't really be able to sleep out here."

He downed another mouthful and looked at her, wondering what she was getting at. "S'pose not. But why do I have a feeling that you're about to suggest I kip somewhere else?"

She shrugged and sat a little closer. "Maybe 'cuz you're not just a pretty face. I'm not using my room during the day, so you can sleep up there if you want."

The mug was empty now, and he had started to lower it, but instead of putting it back on the coffee table, he let it rest in his lap and looked at her curiously. Her offer surprised him. Sure, they liked each other and all, but even after how she had looked after him the night before, he hadn't expected her to offer that.

"And you'd let me into your bed? Just like that?" He shook his head. "What happened to you not bein' easy?"

Sam gently bit at her lower lip, then smiled a little, the lip sliding out from between her teeth as her eyes glinted mischievously. "Never said I'd be in the bed with you. I just want there to be peace, and I figure the best way to make that happen is to keep you and Xander out of each other's way. He has a serious hate on for vamps."

He arched a challenging eyebrow. "An' you don't?"

She shook her head, gesturing at the empty mug. "You done with that?" He nodded, and she handed over the last full mug. "I don't like things that are trying to kill me, and most of the time vamps are in that category, but unless you were trying to kiss me to death last night, I figure you're an exception to that rule."

Spike chuckled. "A'right, pet. You found me out. I plan on snoggin' you senseless."

"Glad to hear it. If you don't mind, though, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"Name it, pet."

She smiled but fidgeted slightly. "You've been sleeping rough the last few weeks, and I'm guessing you haven't had a chance to change your clothes or wash up."

"Good guess. Hasn't really been a priority." He polished off his breakfast and handed her the mug, giving her a searching look. "So what did you want to ask me?"

Her nervousness seemed to kick up a few notches. "Would you mind taking a bath before getting into my bed? And maybe changing into clean clothes?"

He let his head fall back and gave an annoyed groan. "Pet…" Dammit all to hell. If she tried to make him wear something that belonged to Xander bloody Harris, he might just have to stake himself.

She rushed to continue, "It isn't a condition of you using my bed, I'd just really appreciate it." She moved her hand to rest just above his knee. He realized that her hand had been on his leg pretty much the whole time they'd been talking, a gentle, warm pressure which he'd stopped noticing at some point

"So, are you okay with that?" She twirled her finger so that one of the loose strings of his jeans wrapped around the digit, gently tugging at the arrow hole. "I mean, you might even enjoy a nice hot bath."

Spike fought a smile. A hot bath might very well be nice, and it might even help his leg feel a bit better, but she was trying to manipulate him. It wasn't too obvious, but he'd seen – and done – far better jobs of steering people towards doing what he wanted them to do. Unlike the night before, when she had played Giles like an expert musican, now her efforts were sweet, slightly clumsy, and damned adorable.

He gave her a knowing look. Two could play this game. "You sure this isn't just a ploy to see me naked, pet, cuz I'm more'n happy to oblige if that's the case."

She blushed, looking down at the floor. "Well, no. I'm… not ready for the Spike full-monty just yet, thankyouverymuch." She met his eyes and gave a helpless sort of shrug. "I just don't want dirt and crap getting on the sheets I'll be sleeping on, or to have to change the sheets."

Dammit all to hell, he was going soft. Actually, that wasn't true. It was the same old tune, just with a different lyric. He just couldn't say 'no' to his girl. "Fair enough, pet. Been a while since I've kipped in a proper bed, an' I s'pose a bath couldn't hurt. Might be nice to wash that lab off for good an' all."

A smile broke out on her face, and he couldn't help smiling back. Seeing her happy made him happy, too. Hell, but he'd fallen for her quick.

"Want me to set up the bath?"

He sighed, gesturing half-heartedly towards the bathroom. "Fine, pet, but I wanna see these clean clothes you've got in mind for me first. I'm not wearin' anything that belongs to Harris."

She nodded, gathering up the dirty mugs from his breakfast. "Okay. Just gimme a minute." She put the mugs into the kitchen sink and ran some warm water into them before leaving the kitchen again, all but ignoring Giles' indignant sputtering as she stepped back into the hallway. "I'll rinse 'em, just not yet. Don't freak out on me over a few mugs."

Her footsteps moved past the bathroom and towards the study. Spike heard a door open, and then Sam was muttering "now where did he put-" until she interrupted herself with a quiet 'aha!' The door closed again and then Sam returned, holding two pair of sleep pants which she handed over with a smile and a shake of her head. "Giles said these 'shrunk in the wash'." She snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure it was the washing machine and not the fact that Giles has been sitting on his butt all summer. I've also got a big t-shirt upstairs which should fit you. Its gray. Don't remember where I got it, so you're welcome to keep it if you want."

The pants were white with pale blue stripes, not the sort of thing he would have picked to wear. Beggars couldn't be choosers, but even so… "Pet these…" He blinked at them, shaking his head slightly. "I'm gonna look like a bleedin' ponce wearin' em."

She rolled her eyes. "Somehow I doubt that. Besides, its not like you're gonna be walking down main street in pjs. They're just for sleeping in." She narrowed her eyes at him appraisingly, hands on her hips and a sly smile tugging at her mouth. "Now, should I run the bath, or do you wanna complain some more first?"

"Fine," he muttered. If he'd had a white flag, he would have waved it. "Run the bath."

Sam grinned, clearly pleased with herself, and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, sweetie."

He shook his head as she stepped away and watched her give Giles a 'wait-a-moment' gesture in regards to the breakfast dishes. He chuckled, shaking his head again. She had them both twisted round her little finger, no mistake about that, but Giles didn't get near as many perks for his cooperation. Spike heard water start running in the bathroom and reluctantly pushed back the covers he had slept under, removing himself from his cozy nest. Comfy as he was on the couch, he hadn't just agreed to wash to make her happy, after all. A hot bath did sound promising.

Sam came back into the hall and made a bee-line for the kitchen sink, smiling tightly at Giles as she edged past him. "I know, I know. Dishes. I'm on it."

The man made a soft grumpy sound and turned to watch as she grabbed a soapy sponge and started cleaning the breakfast plates, mugs and utensils. "I gather you're not doing this by half-measures."

"Hmm?" She didn't look up from the sink.

Giles nodded toward the living room. "Giving him clothes, making him breakfast. What's next?"

"Well," she sounded utterly bored. "I thought I'd do his nails and then bring someone back here for him to eat. Maybe stop by a daycare. I wonder if he likes kids." She stared at Giles with the straightest face Spike had ever seen, even though he only had a profile view of her. "You'd be okay with that, right? Me bringing take-out home instead of cooking. I know it's lazier than actually doing the cooking myself, but sometimes when you're first seeing someone you go a little overboard, and I want to know how much he likes kids."

Giles spluttered, his face turning a strange blotchy crimson. "I… you… this is…"

She shook with laughter, and Spike wondered how one person could be so fiesty, wicked and considerate all at once. "Man, you are just too easy!" She pulled the shocked watcher into a hug and patted him on the back. "Is that what you really think is gonna happen? Giles, when are you gonna start trusting me?"

He hugged her back for a moment, then put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away until they were face to face again. "I trust you, Sam, its just… Spike…"

"I know. You don't like him." Sam nodded patiently, giving the man a fond smile. "You've made that abundantly clear, and I respect that. However, I do like him, and I think he's worth the risk, so I'm not gonna let you or anyone else stop me from treating him with respect and kindness. If it makes you happy, I'll pay for the butcher's blood… even though he made the food-and-shelter-for-info deal with you."

Giles shifted in place, then took off his glasses and started polishing them. "That won't be necessary. A bargain was struck, and I'll abide by it." Once he seemed satisfied that they were clean, he put them on again and peered down at her, all fatherly worry. "What if you're wrong about him?"

She shrugged, turning to glance at Spike and smirking when she saw that he was listening in. "I'll take that chance."

TBC