A/N: Quick warning - this chapter contains brief discussion of an unpleasant topic. Don't want to spoil what it is, but wanted you to be prepared for 'bad feels'.

Male Bonding, Jet Lag, and Pizza

Willow shut the door as Andrew started looking around the bathroom distractedly.

"I thought this place would be bigger," he said, as much to himself as to her, before lifting a purple colored rubber duck and beginning to inspect the shelf where it had sat.

"Will you stop that?!" said Willow, snatching the duck from him and setting it down again. "You're right. We need to talk. Andrew, hey, look at me!"

"The thing is," he started to say, while glancing at his feet. "I don't think we're gonna work."

"No, we're gonna – wait, what?"

Finally looking her straight in the eyes, Andrew nodded apologetically, "I'm sorry, Willow. I knew you'd take this hard. But I just don't think we're right for each other."

"You don't think, period!" she spat back at him.

"There's no need to get angry," he said, gesticulating. "I'm just trying to be open and honest."

The witch's brow furrowed, "You think I came here to tell you I want us to be together? Andrew-"

"No," he said, cutting her off as he went for the door, "I've made my choice and it's final. You'll just have to respect it and move on."

When he walked out Willow just stood there for a moment, completely befuddled, before finally muttering to herself, "That's not how I expected that to go," and exiting the room herself.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Xander was trying to find words for his own awkward conversation. Having difficulty, he opened with small talk. "This place rent controlled?" he asked, "Wouldn't wanna lose it if the market skyrockets again."

Spike just glared at him, "What exactly is it you want, Harris?"

"Right, cutting to the chase, that's just like you."

"That a criticism? How original coming from you," Spike retorted.

"Wasn't, actually," admitted the carpenter, and Spike quirked his eyebrow at him. "Yeah, first time for everything."

"What? You're gonna be nice to me now I'm getting' hitched to the Slayer?" asked the ex-vampire, trying to figure out exactly where the conversation was headed.

"Spike," Xander began, "This isn't easy for me. Not being able to admit my faults is actually pretty high up there on my list of faults."

"Okay," said Spike, gesturing for him to carry on.

"I was wrong about you," Xander blurted out, and Spike was dumbfounded. Whatever he expected, it hadn't been that. Carrying on, the carpenter admitted that Spike had changed, and he couldn't deny it anymore. "I think, the way you are now… I actually think you're good for Buffy."

"Happen to agree," said Spike. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it needed to be said; this can't just be another occasion when I've ran away from the truth."

"More to that sentence than you're lettin' on, I'd wager," said the ex-vampire, observantly.

Xander nodded in agreement. "Had a lot of time to think, since I lost Ahn. Not at first, of course, there was too much alcohol involved for me to think clearly at all."

"Speaking of," said Spike, pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels from a kitchen cupboard, "Want some?"

"Nah. Just… just let me say this. Okay?"

Spike shrugged, pouring some for himself.

"Part of me envies you."

"Knew that already, Whelp," Spike snorted. "You always wanted Buffy, didn't you?"

Hanging his head a little Xander agreed, "Yeah. But it's more than that now."

That made the ex-vamp stand up a bit straighter, "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"It means that you loved Buffy, and she died but came back to you. Same for her. She got you back, and part of me is wondering… hoping-"

"That Anya will rise once more," Spike finished for him, suddenly flooded with empathy.

"I know it's not gonna happen. But part of me just can't give up hope, y'know?"

"I know," Spike agreed.

"Should have treated her better, while she was here," he said, slamming his fist down on the counter. "Should have married her, not run away like a scared little boy. That's what she called me, right? After you two… I've played it over in my head a thousand times. So much it doesn't even seem real anymore."

"Xander- " Spike started to say, but the brunette shook his head, essentially cutting him off.

"I looked back further, after that," he said, "Started thinking about Cordy, and Willow. And, yeah, even Buffy. I've treated them all badly, at some point. And then – this is what really gets me – I didn't learn my lesson. When Anya's death really, fully, hit me I got drunk, got some co-ed pregnant and then bullied her into having an abortion," he took a deep breath, before asking, "God, what's wrong with me?"

Spike genuinely didn't know how to answer that, so he remained stoic, trying to process all the information Xander was throwing at him.

Xander continued, filling the silence, "So I came here to tell you that I was wrong. That I've been wrong for a very long time. I thought I was better than you but, really? You're more of a man than I've ever been."

"Seems to me, Harris, that realizing that was your first right move," said Spike, gripping the carpenter on one shoulder, "Do appreciate what you're saying. An' know it's been hard. But you'll get there."

Xander looked up at him – his eyes watering, but no tears spilling over – and Spike repeated, "You'll get there," before they embraced.

When Spike and Xander left the kitchen Buffy started inspecting them for wounds.

"Seem to both be in one piece. Have you been playing nice?" she asked them, in a mocking tone.

"Yes, Miss," said Spike, taking hold of her round the waist, before leaning forward to whisper in her ear, "Won't be so good when I've got alone, later."

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed, slapping his arm as her face went red.

"Think that's our cue to go," said Xander, with a small smile.

"What? No!" Dawn protested, "You've barely been here two hours."

Sensing her best friend wasn't really in the party mood anymore, Willow put a hand on Dawn's shoulder and said, "Think Xander's right. We need rest – jet lag and all – but can catch up on the way to your place, and will come back here tomorrow, to say goodbye before flying back."

"You're flying back so soon?" asked Buffy, pouting.

"Afraid so," said Willow, looking apologetic, "Both of us have got work."

Perkily, Andrew interjected by informing everyone he could stay around until the weekend.

"Right, well. That's good then," said Spike, sarcastically, but the boy just smiled at him.

Ignoring the exchange, Buffy hugged Willow and Xander, plus Dawn and Giles, and told them to come by when they felt fully rested. "Err, maybe you should call first, though."

"Will do," the witch confirmed. "Good to see you Spike."

"You too, Red," he replied as they left, with Andrew trailing behind.

As soon as the front door shut the doorbell rang, and both Buffy and Spike stared at it, incredulous.

"Who in the bloody he-" Spike started to say before opening up again and seeing a nervous pizza delivery boy before him. "You're late," he informed him, taking the boxes, "We'll be having this on the house."

The boy started to protest but Spike just shut the door on him and walked to the bedroom – lifting Buffy under one arm as he went.

Three hours later the couple sat up in bed and started tucking into cold pizza.

"One day into my week off and already my sleep schedule is messed up," Buffy complained.

"Would you rather I let you get more rest?" Spike asked her.

She considered it for a moment, and then replied, "Who needs sleep anyway?"

Spike chuckled, before reaching forward to wipe some sauce off his fiancé's face with the pad of his thumb, and then placing it in her mouth for her to suck.

"Mmm," she moaned, "How do you do that?"

"Do what, luv?" he asked her, taking a new slice of pizza and feeding it to her.

"Make every little action so intimate?"

"It's a talent, I guess."

"God! It's no reason you're arrogant."

"'M not arrogant!" he protested, and she just looked at him. "Well, okay, maybe a bit."

Buffy rolled her eyes and kissed him.

Soon the pizza was forgotten again, as they resumed their earlier activity.

The phone woke Buffy at just after 6am. Glancing at Spike she saw he was dead to the world - figuratively speaking.

"Hello?" she croaked into the receiver.

"Hey Buffy!" said Willow, excitedly. "I know it's early, but I'm all out of sync. Are you ready to start the day?"

"Umm…" the Slayer drawled. "Yeah. Just… let me rest my eyes, a little bit more."

"Wow, Buffy, you sound beat! Were you out patrolling all night?"

"No," she said, while yawning, "Don't patrol these days unless I get an itch; there's young… uh, young slayers for that."

"Oh," said Willow, then – much louder – "Oh! You were… you must have been! Sorry, Buffy. I'll let you sleep. Will hang out with Dawn for a few hours and come over around noon, okay?"

"Uh huh," said Buffy before hanging up and snuggling against Spike.

"Was that the phone?" he asked her.

"Think so," she replied, already half asleep again.

To be continued...