A.N. Major thanks to those of you who left reviews! They are always awesome to read and make updating more fun for me =] Special thanks to bowlingforvampires whose comment sincerely made my day! You are the best =] Anyway, hope you like the chapter, it has a little fluff because I felt fluff was needed, so enjoy.

They sat across from each other, a mug of tea in front of Buffy, which Spike had made. He had insisted on making it, saying something illegible about women and tea. Buffy felt it better not to ask.

She shook her head, her fingers locked around the warm mug. "I don't know why it freaked me out so much. He didn't touch me, he didn't even say anything definite, but it was the feeling I got. The all consuming fear that Angelus was back; that weird connection I had to the basement. I couldn't have denied it . . . like that time we couldn't leave the house."

Spike rested his elbows on his knees, frowning. "He said it would devour you?"

Buffy nodded. "Not like there aren't hundreds of evil things that devour. You devour."

"I do not!" he replied indignantly. She quirked her eyebrow at him. "Oh, alright. I've been known to devour a person or two."

"My point is, whatever he, it was talking about, I can feel it. It's in the energy around us . . ."

"Yeah, well, got to agree with you there, Precious. I thought the energy was just the whole soul killing me off thing, but I can feel it stronger now. Which is why you were on about the William the Bloody talk, yeah?"

"Yes, I mean no. I don't want you out there killing people, but I don't want you beating yourself up either. Whatever this new evil is, I'm not going to be able to take it on my own. The days are way past when I was facing the Master or killing Angel. This is something big and something strong. I need you, the real you, fighting beside me."

Spike reached across the table, covering her hands with his. "Whatever it is, Love, we'll figure it out. You noble types always do."

"Uhm, sorry to cut in on cuddle time," Andrew said. Spike and Buffy jolted apart as if electrocuted. "But I thought you'd want to know, Buffy, that Dawn just crawled out the window."

"What?" Buffy jumped to her feet, running to the front door. Wrenching it open, she saw Dawn slipping into the passenger seat of a black car. Buffy started to run after her, but the car was already speeding down the street.

"Andrew!" Buffy shouted, returning to the house at top speed. "Did she say what she was doing?"

"Well," he thought this over, "she came into my room, told me to mind my own business, and something about a Davie Smith."

Buffy sagged against the door frame relieved. "Fine. If she wants to go out with Davie Smith, that's up to her, but doing so without my permission guarantees she's grounded when she gets home."

"Who's grounded?" Willow asked, traipsing through the open door.

"Dawn," Andrew eagerly said, "she ran off with Davie Smith so now Buffy is going to ground her."

"But – but I thought we liked Davie?"

"We do, we don't like when Dawn doesn't ask permission before going out with a normal boy."

"Normal boy?" Spike asked. "That would be a first for a Summers' woman wouldn't it?"

"Shut up, Spike." Buffy slammed the front door closed.

"Because, didn't you tell me your mom dated a robot?"

"Oh! Ted!" Willow nodded vigorously.

"Leave my mom out of this!" Buffy glared at Spike.

He smirked. "Guess I'm not the only one who . . ."

"Spike!"

He's smirk widened. "Just saying, Love." He got up, brushing past her so Buffy could feel the play of his fingers against her waist, then headed down to the basement.

She fought the urge to follow him, knowing there were far more important things to take care of. "Andrew, sit," Buffy pointed to the couch. He obliged. "Willow, we need to talk."

She told them both about the Angelus incarnation. Andrew sat on his hands, bobbing up and down to express his need to talk. When she finished, he blurted out, "That's just what happened to me! Except, you didn't kill your best friend . . . But! Warren showed up and you know, he's dead so –"

"Dead!" Willow flailed her hand. "Angel and Warren are both dead, Angel's more of a technicality, but point of fact is he's dead."

Buffy frowned. "But why would the evil impersonating ghost warn us that something is coming?"

"I don't think it was warning you, Buffy, I think it was taunting you. You said yourself that you can feel the evil in the air. It knows you know it's there. It wanted to play with you."

"Is this something we can research? Books on impersonating ghosts?"

Willow looked toward their bookcases. "I doubt it's something we'd have here, but the Magic Box might have something."

"So the ghost made me do it," Andrew said, more to himself than to the two women. "My hands are washed clean of the blood of the innocent."

"Andrew," Buffy stared at him in disbelieving disgust, "you killed Jonathon; a ghost might have told you to do it, but you were the one who stabbed him."

"Still," he said undaunted, "the plot thickens."

Willow and Buffy exchanged a look. "Right. Go back to your room, Andrew."

He trotted away. Once they were alone, Buffy asked Willow, "How's Xander?"

She gave Buffy wide eyes. "You know Xander. He's never been fond of any of your vampire friends. I would say he dislikes Spike more than Angel because of the whole . . . thing with Anya."

Cold slithered against Buffy's heart. "I don't think anyone was particularly . . ."

"Again, true. But, Xander feels like you're choosing Spike over your friends."

"Because I didn't want Spike to die?" Buffy asked incredulously.

She shrugged. "I guess so? I think Xander thinks you care more about Spike than you do about, well, him."

"That's ridiculous. Xander is one of my best friend's. Spike is just . . . he's just . . . Spike," Buffy finished lamely.

"I think until you figure out exactly what that means, what Spike being just Spike means, there are questions all of us have that are going unanswered. I'm not trying to pressure you, but you need to –"

"I've got it, Will. Thanks." Irritated, Buffy turned on her heel, leaving the house.

She walked for the half mile to the Magic Box. Anya greeted her with false cheeriness until she realized Buffy wasn't a potential customer. "Oh. It's you."

"Nice to see you too, Anya."

"Let any other vampires suck off you lately?"

"Cast any vengeance spells lately?"

They squared off.

"Xander's mad at you."

"Then I suggest he bring it up with me."

"He's stupidly loyal to you, you know."

"And he's stupidly in love with you."

Anya sighed. "Is there something you need?"

"I need books on ghosts who can impersonate the dead."

"What?" Anya looked at Buffy like she was crazy. Buffy groaned, this is why things were easier when they were a cohesive group, Buffy only had to tell the story once instead of three times or more. Still, Buffy recounted her adventures and her belief in their connection to Andrew's.

When Buffy finished, Anya walked to the wall of bookshelves. She ran her hand over the multiple covers, pulling several out a random. She ended up handing Buffy a pile of five books. "There should be something in there, otherwise, we don't have anything on it."

"Thanks," Buffy said.

"You're welcome. But, if you don't bring back the book on Spike, I'm going to charge it to your account." Anya whirled around, going back to the cash register.

"Trust me, it's not a book I want to keep. I'll bring it back tomorrow after school."

"Fine."

Opening the front door to the Summers' residence, Buffy heard Dawn talking excitedly to Willow. Buffy deposited the books on the dining room table, following the sound of voices up to Dawn's bedroom.

"And then he kissed me! Can you believe it? Our first hang out and he kisses me. So that's like a two kiss relationship! It was so romantic, one minute he's like, 'Uh, I like your hair,' the next he's kissing me!"

"Yes, that sounds . . . really romantic," Willow said.

Buffy knocked on the door. Dawn turned around, her happiness fading. "What do you want?"

"First, to tell you you're grounded," Dawn started to protest but Buffy talked over her, "and second, to tell you that it's generally a good idea to save the kissing until he's officially asked you out."

"Why are you ruining this?" Dawn cried. "You act like a complete freak at school and now you're grounding me?"

"You didn't ask me if you could go out with Davie Smith. You know that's one of the rules, so yeah, you're grounded. And I didn't act like a freak at school –"

"Yes, you did! Davie asked me if you had a mental problem or had been recently released from prison."

"What? Prison?" Buffy looked down at her outfit. "Why prison?"

"The whole macho-woman thing." Dawn flopped down on her bed. "And I was going to ask you, but Davie was already here and I didn't want you to say no, so . . ."

"So you shimmed down the – on second thought, what did you shimmy down?" Buffy looked toward her windows.

"Like I would tell you."

It suddenly dawned on her why Dawn had talked to Andrew, she had gone out through his window, which was really even more concerning because it suggested how easily Andrew could escape. However, Buffy chalked it up to a fear of heights or falling to his death that Andrew had thus far not tried Dawn's daring escape.

"Either way, you're still grounded."

"And Buffy had good reason to spazz," Willow said in her friend's defense.

For the fourth time, Buffy explained the basement. Dawn remained impassive. "And what? You thought the ghost was going to attack us?"

"Like the last ghosts in the basement did? Uh, yeah."

She frowned. "You said we destroyed them."

"We did, but that doesn't mean –"

"Okay, okay. But next time, can't you just wave me over frantically or something? I really like Davie Smith and I don't want your possible prison background messing this up."

"I have not been to prison!" Buffy said emphatically. "Faith! Faith is in prison, not me."

"You did switch bodies that one time," Willow pointed out.

"So not helping, Will."

"Sorry." She slunk from the room.

"We'll talk about this after dinner, okay?" Buffy gave Dawn her hardest older sister look.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, whatever."

Having accomplished her sisterly duty, Buffy went after Willow, showing her the books Anya had suggested. "Great," Willow said, flipping through the book on top. "I'll get started on these, it would help if Xander and Anya could stop by tonight, after your patrol, we could get through the books faster that way. Maybe you should call, Xander." She glanced at Buffy from the corner of her eyes.

"Smooth, Will, really smooth."

She blushed, but Buffy went to the phone anyway. She dialed in Xander's number and held her breath while the phone rang.

"Xander here."

"Hey, it's me."

"Buffy? Oh. What's up?" There was the barest edge to his words, but she heard it all the same.

"We have a research situation."

"I'm not going to do research for Spike."

Buffy froze for a moment. "It's not about – it's something else, okay. But if you –"

"Sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. If it's unrelated to Spike, I can help out. When do you need me?"

Buffy looked at Willow, she was already buried nose deep in a book. "Does around nine work for you?"

"Okay. I'll swing by beforehand and get Anya, then we'll be over."

"Great. And Xander, thanks."

He was silent, then, "You're welcome, Buffy."

Willow pretended to be uninterested when Buffy came back into the dining room. However, a minute was long enough to break her. "So? What did he say?"

"He and Anya are in on Scooby time."

She smiled. "Good. So, this allows for the perfect amount of veg time before patrol time during which I can complain to you about my classes while silently loving all things academic?"

Buffy smiled. "Totally."

At eight, Buffy was jogging down the stairs, thinking Spike might want to join her on patrol. "Spike?" she called when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

His back was to her, he had the basement window propped open, and he was smoking. "Need something?" He sounded weird. Not vampire weird, but definitely weird.

"Uh," Buffy looked at him curiously, "yeah actually."

"What can 'just Spike' do for you?" He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes glinting darkly.

Exhausted annoyance swept over her. "Can we not do this?"

"You don't want to fight it out because I'm just Spike? Sure, Pet. Whatever you want." He turned back to the window.

Buffy tapped her foot on the cement floor. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"It's a house, Buffy. Made of wood and stone. If you've got secrets, this isn't the place to share them."

"What secret, Spike?"

He snorted. "You can't get rid of me because I'm just Spike? Endearing, really."

Buffy slapped her hands against her sides. "You're such an idiot. Did the hundred years of bleach fumes kill off some of your brain cells or were you always this pigheaded?"

"What's with the pig motif? Why are you always comparing me to a pig?" He turned around, his expression cold.

"Because you act like a pig! I don't know!"

"So it's just Spike, the pig then is it?"

"Shut up!" She crossed the room in three strides, grabbing his chin in her hand. "I don't know why I bother with you." Then she kissed him.

Spike started to give in, Buffy could feel him kissing her back briefly, then he shoved her off of him. "No! No more. I'm tired of being just Spike. Just Spike the easy lay. Just Spike the punching bag. Just Spike the stupid vampire with a soul. I need more than that."

"What do you want, Spike?"

He dashed the cigarette butt to the ground. "I want you, Buffy. I've always wanted you."

She spread her arms wide open. "You have me."

His pale blue eyes pierced her green ones. "No one's ever had you, Buffy. Angel didn't, Riley knew he didn't, and I don't have you now."

Her arms fell back to her sides. She tilted her neck to the left; his gaze went straight to the bite mark. "You have me."

Spike came to Buffy as if pulled magnetically; one hand cradling her head, the other slipping into her back pants pocket, keeping her body against him. He ran the tip of his nose against the line of her soft throat.

"Do you trust me?" his breath puffed against her vulnerable skin.

"With my life."

He pressed a soft kiss to the bite scar just before his teeth sliced Buffy's skin open anew.

The second bite was much different from the first. Buffy wasn't sucked into the portal of Spike's thoughts; he was pulled into hers. Buffy saw him hanging from the cross, lying in her arms, huddled on the basement floor of the school, chained to her basement wall, pressed against her as he slept, and his face when he saw her for the first time after she was resurrected.

Spike's tongue flicked across her broken skin, the whole process over in less than thirty seconds. He wasn't drinking for hunger, he was drinking because Buffy had offered herself to him. Arms still around her, he dropped his face to look in her eyes. Cautious hope reflected out of them.

She kissed him, ignoring the taste of her own blood; he returned her kiss with insatiable hunger, the same hunger Buffy felt for him, the one that had her twisted up with the desire to crawl beneath his skin.

Spike rested his forehead against her, stalling their kiss. "I love you, Buffy."

She snaked her hand up between them, placing it against his chest. "Then trust me when I say, you have me."

She waited for this to soak in before making her request. "So, I'm doing this crazy thing tonight called patrolling and I had this even crazier notion of asking you to go with me. What do you say, William?"

He grinned. "Killing things. That's an enticing offer."

"Ah, I'm so glad you're in it for the right reasons, you know, ridding the world of evil and danger," Buffy teased.

"No point in being noble if you don't enjoy the killing." Spike kissed her swiftly.

Releasing Buffy, he went to the laundry cabinet, returning with a band-aid. Holding it up for her approval, Spike tore open the package, letting the paper flutter to the ground as he stuck the band-aid to her neck.

"Thanks," she said, running her fingers over the latex.

Eyes holding hers, he bent and kissed the band-aid. A shiver ran down Buffy's spine. Everything between them was so raw, no pretenses. It was something she had never experienced before and it left her feeling alarmingly vulnerable.

"Let's go," she started up the stairs.

When they got to the cemetery, Buffy decided to lay down some rules. It was all fine and dandy to go along getting to know Spike at a snail's pace, because honestly, she didn't know tons about him and even with his obsessive stalker behavior the past couple of years, he didn't know her all too well either.

Of course they knew the major things about each other, the darkness that lived inside them both. But Buffy was more interested in the boring details for right now.

The way that she knew Willow had a fear of frogs and had nightmares of forgetting her lines to a play on an alarmingly frequent basis. The way that she knew Angel really did get huffy if you messed with his hair, which she could totally understand, it had to be hard to style your hair without a reflection. The same way she knew Giles had a secret passion for playing guitar and singing at open mic nights at cafes.

These were the kinds of things you knew about the people you cared about, the people you loved. Not that she loved Spike, but she did care about him, a lot actually.

So, as she leaned against the entrance to the cemetery, she pressed her hand against Spike's chest to hold him in place. "Here's the deal. You stake the vamp, you get to ask the question. I stake the vamp, I get to ask the question."

Spike quirked his scarred eyebrow, cigarette in his left hand. "What kind of question?"

"Any kind. Favorite movie, biggest fear, whatever."

He inhaled then held the smoke in his lungs for a second. "Deal." It was an exhale of smoke.

Annoyed, Buffy fanned the offensive pollution from her face. "Game on, then."

When they came across their first unsuspecting vampire, they went after him with unusual ruthlessness. There was barely enough time for clever banter before Buffy was plummeting her stake into the vampire's chest. When he exploded in a puff of ash, she turned to Spike.

"How often do you have to dye your hair?"

He laughed, one hand running over his bleached locks. "That's what you want to know?"

"Answer the question."

"Every couple of weeks."

"That is so weird."

"Oh, right, because you wearing prissy outfits to go slaying in is the height of normalcy," he snorted and headed deeper into the cemetery.

Buffy ran after him, jumping easily onto Spike's back where she set about musing his carefully gelled hair into a mess of curls. "Don't you dare insult my fashion!"

"Oi!" Spike shouted, trying to throw the slayer off his back. "Stop that!"

"Make me," Buffy taunted, fingers raking through the stiff curls.

Grabbing both of her wrists, Spike threw her over, capturing her against his chest before she hit the ground. "You are a bloody pest, Slayer," he groused, easing her to the ground then trying to repair the damage to his hair.

Buffy glared at him. "I can't believe you insulted my clothes!"

He rolled his eyes. "Buffy, I own two pairs of pants and five shirts. What do you care what I think of your clothes?"

She pouted. "I don't. It's just . . ."

Spike gave his hair up as a lost cause and fixed his attention on the petite blonde before him. Her expression clued him into the situation he had inadvertently stepped into. "Er – no, you're right. Your clothes are great. Very fashionable and uh girly."

Buffy stared incredulously. "Girly?"

He made an exasperated sound. "Bloody hell, Buffy, I don't know. I think you're beautiful with or without clothes, though I prefer the latter. I'm not good at boyfriend bollocks. All I had to tell Dru was that I loved her from eyeballs to entrails, not exactly the stuff of love poems, Pet."

"Did you just call yourself my boyfriend, Spike?"

Had he been capable of it, Buffy knew Spike would have blushed. "Right – what I meant was –"

She stepped closer to him, looping her arms around his waist and leaning away from him. It was incredibly fun to be this playful with him. Things had never been light between them before, they had always been obscured by the dark. "Because that would make me your girlfriend."

"Yeah – well –"

"And I don't exactly remember you asking me out."

"Bloody hell, Buffy!" He flashed to vampire features then back again. "You are the most annoying bint –"

"Hey!" She jerked him toward her with a severe look of disapproval.

Spike groaned. "I love you, Buffy. Now shut the hell up and agree to be my sodding girlfriend!"

She smiled impishly. "Well, when you ask so nicely –"

"Vampire!" Spike threw Buffy to the ground, vaulted over the grave that separated him from his prey, and went on the offensive.

Buffy scrabbled to her feet. "Not fair! We both need an equal chance of –" she threw a punch as the vampire reeled in her direction, "staking it or it doesn't –" Spike shoved Buffy out of the way again and staked the vampire, "count."

He stood upright, wiping off the ashes on his pants. "Can't help it if you're slow on the uptake, Slayer. Might be getting a bit dawdling in your old age. Now, about my question." Spike slipped his hand into Buffy's and pulled her along with him towards the west side of the cemetery. "How attached are you to that bollocks about normal?"

From hair treatments to life goals, Buffy guessed they didn't exactly have the same curiosities in mind. "Depends on what you qualify as normal. Slaying isn't exactly the height of normal and when I was younger yeah I might have wasted endless hours daydreaming of normal. But honestly, after you die for the second time, you're kind of forced to give up the whole prospect. I'll leave normal to Dawn. She can be the one to get married and have cute little babies. I'll be that cooky aunt that likes to play with pointy objects and has the centuries old boyfriend with a deadly allergy to the sun."

"You saying your nixing motherhood and marriage completely?" He squinted down at her in surprise. "Never pinned you for a quitter, Precious."

Buffy sighed, squeezing his hand affectionately. "It's not giving up. Or at least, I don't look at it that way. My life isn't going to be normal, and it's not ever going to be safe. I don't want to bring a bundle of pink joy into this world that by virtue of having me for a mother would automatically have a price on her head. And marriage? I have yet to see an outstanding representation of this myth. My mom and dad? So not Cinderella and Prince Charming. Anya, Xander, and the not wedding? Yeah that was encouraging." She stopped, turning him to face her. "Why? You got any marriage plans lurking around that I should know about?"

Spike laughed. "Sorry, Pet. Not huge on marriage myself. What with the churches and their bloody crosses waiting to burn me up, pools of holy water waiting to sizzle off my skin."

Buffy smiled. "Aw, but you were so excited when we were planning our wedding."

"Yeah, you have Red and Red alone to thank for that."

Spike stooped to kiss her, a gentle kiss that progressed into something more heated. His tongue sliding sensually against hers and Buffy curled her arms around him, loving the feel of his muscled biceps crushing her against him. She moved up onto her tip toes to reach him better, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip then sucking to placate the bite. Spike growled appreciatively into the kiss; they separated languidly.

"Okay, boyfriend, time to get back to the house," Buffy said with a sigh of regret.

Spike looked back down at his girl. "Hot date?"

"We've got research to do. Are you going to help?"

"I had other things in mind for the evening . . ." he trailed off suggestively.

Buffy tilted her face up, kissing his lips. "Books now." She took his hand in hers.

"Fine," he sighed, letting her dragging him back through the cemetery. "But I'll have you know, Slayer, I'm only doing this because you're my girlfriend."

Buffy's heart warmed at his words. She was Spike's girlfriend. Spike was her boyfriend. How weird. How perfect.