A/N: Hey all, sorry for another mammoth delay with this chapter. Hope it was worth the wait! Also, thanks again for the encouraging reviews – especially Lakitalover and Mystic4Gohan whose reviews this week gave me the kick I needed to get on with updating.

Sitting wedged up against Willow in the back of the people carrier taxi, Buffy stared unseeingly out of the window. It bothered her on some deep-seated level that Spike hadn't showed up tonight; it meant that she'd finally succeeded in pushing him away. Just what I always wanted, right? A Spike-free reality? Only as it turns out, not so much...

'Buffy?' Willow said quietly, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. 'Are you okay?'

'Oh, yeah,' Buffy said, unthinkingly slipping on her Big Brave Slayer mask. 'Just a little tired.'

Willow nodded, then her eyes went wide. 'Oh, that reminds me. I've – that is, we've got a present for you,' she said, fumbling in her pocket.

'What's the occasion?' Buffy asked.

'Tara and I, we just wanted to help lighten your load a little,' Willow explained, glancing across at her girlfriend. 'With Glory and your mom and…losing Riley…we know it's been really hard for you lately.'

'It's been kinda rough,' Buffy admitted, looking down at her hands. 'But you didn't need to get me anything, Will – just having you here is enough.'

Willow smiled. 'Hold out your hand.'

Buffy did so and Willow placed a pendant in her hand, the silver chain coiling in her palm. Glinting up at her was a small blue crystal, streaked with opalescent swirls.

'It's beautiful,' Buffy said, smiling.

'It's enchanted,' Willow said. 'Put it on when you go to bed and it'll be activated once you fall asleep.'

'What'll it do?' Buffy asked. 'Will it help me sleep? 'Cos as these fetching bags under my eyes will tell ya, the beauty sleep has been kinda thin on the ground lately.'

'Yeah, in a way,' Willow nodded. 'It's imbued with a spell that taps into your subconscious, then creates a restful dreamworld based around what it finds.'

'And it won't take me into some nightmare dimension?' Buffy asked warily. 'I only ask 'cos that's all that there seems to be in my subconscious these days.'

'Oh no, nothing like that,' Tara assured her. 'There's a filter in there so it'll only pick up on the good stuff – y'know, like, your hidden desires.'

'Ooo-kay...so, when you say 'hidden desires', what exactly does that mean?'

'Whatever you want it to mean,' Willow grinned. 'It'll squirrel down into your brain to find out what it is you want the most, even if it's stuff you're not aware of, then construct a dream where all those things are true. It could be a world where Jimmy Choos are always on sale, or where double fudge mint chip ice cream has no calories.' Willow smiled, then said softly, 'Or maybe a world where things turned out differently with Riley. Or even with Angel…whatever it finds in the Buffy brain soup, it'll figure out your heart's true desire.'

'Wow,' Buffy said. 'Honestly? I'm a little afraid to find out what that is.'

'Here we are, Buff,' Xander announced as the taxi pulled up at the kerb. Buffy opened the door and swung her legs out into the pre-dawn darkness.

'Night,' Willow called after her. 'Sweet dreams.'

Giles stifled a yawn as he turned the key in his front door. Above him the sky was streaked with smears of coral pink, the sun just reaching the horizon.

Inside it was dark and quiet. He dropped his weapons bag and kicked off his shoes, yanked his sweater over his head and headed for the couch. Smothering another yawn, he was pleased to note that Joyce had already draped his comforter across the couch cushions. He sat down heavily on his makeshift bed and a shriek rang out, setting his heart racing as he leapt to his feet.

'Giles!' said a familiar voice. 'Can you please watch where you're putting your bottom?'

'Anya,' he exclaimed, relieved but annoyed. 'I do beg your pardon for assuming that my own bed, in my own house, would be unoccupied.' He frowned. 'What are you doing here, anyway?'

'I'm fine, thanks for asking,' Anya said huffily, sitting up and folding her arms.

'Ah, yes, I should have...how are you doing?' Giles asked, tone softening as he sat beside her.

'Well, I haven't gone back to cursing mankind, if that's what you're asking, though it was a close call for a while there.' She looked down. 'How's Xander?'

'Miserable without you,' Giles said honestly.

'Really?' Anya smiled, eyes gleaming, face softening for a second before hardening again. 'Well, good. Long may it continue.'

'Yes, well, if I may return to my original question – what are you doing here?'

'I brought Spike here.'

Giles frowned, squinting in confusion. 'I see. For any particular reason?'

'I found him by the side of the road, all broken and bleeding,' Anya explained. 'The sun was almost up, and it was too far to drag him all the way back to his crypt, so I brought him here. He's in your bed,' she finished.

'Ah-hah. And where is Joyce?'

'She's upstairs with Spike.'

Giles's eyes wide. 'I'm fairly certain that's not what it sounds like.'

Anya gave him a patient, condescending smile. 'They're not having sex, Giles – that would be both inappropriate and wrong.'

'I'm glad you think so,' Giles said faintly.

Anya nodded. 'Of course it would. Spike is in love with Buffy, not Joyce, and you can't have sex with your daughter's boyfriend.'

'I'm so pleased we got that settled,' Giles said, standing. 'Perhaps I'll go up and see how he's doing.'

'Okay. I'm going back to sleep,' Anya announced, snuggling under the comforter once more.

Giles walked slowly up the stairs, thinking through the situation in which he found himself. How things change, he reflected silently. A year ago, Spike and Buffy were mortal enemies; Willow was dating Oz; Joyce was fit and healthy; Xander and Anya were blissfully and overtly happy together; and I could sit on my own sofa without having my eardrums perforated.

Joyce, seated at the side of the bed, looked up as she heard Giles approaching. Her expression was both sad and maternal, and it appeared as though she'd shed more than a few tears. The room was dim, lit only by one lamp, and Giles had trouble making out Spike's figure under the bedclothes.

'How is he?' Giles asked quietly.

'Not good,' Joyce said. She looked back at Spike and Giles peered down at him, blood running cold as he finally saw what bad shape the vampire was in.

'Bloody hell,' Giles said unthinkingly.

'I know,' Joyce said. 'He looks so...vulnerable somehow. I've never seen him look that way before.'

I have, thought Giles, every time he looks at Buffy. 'Have you any idea what happened to him?' he asked.

'No, he's been out cold since Anya brought him here. But whatever it was really did a number on him. I cleaned him up as best I could, but I'm pretty sure he has some broken bones. I don't really know how to do first aid on a vampire,' Joyce finished with a helpless shrug.

'All we can really do is to make sure that he's comfortable and well fed,' Giles said. 'I'll go and heat some, uh, some blood up for him.'

...

Joyce reached out to adjust the comforter covering Spike's battered body. She didn't know whether vampires felt the chill, but she had to do something; his stillness and brokenness made her cold somewhere deep down inside. She knew he was supposed to be the enemy, but she'd always had trouble seeing him that way. Unthinkingly she gripped one cool hand and rubbed it gently, like she had when Buffy was ill as a child.

Spike's eyelashes fluttered and a soft, hoarse groan came from his bruised throat. 'Buffy?' he croaked, barely audible.

'Spike, it's Joyce,' she said, smiling. 'You're safe now, don't worry.'

'Did she...get Buffy?' Spike asked, straining upwards.

'Buffy is fine, Spike,' Giles said, reappearing with a mug of blood. 'Do you mean Glory? Did she do this to you?'

'Yeah,' Spike said, struggling to sit. Joyce leaned forward to help, propping pillows at his back. Giles handed him the Kiss the Librarian mug, complete with a drinking straw.

Spike smiled painfully. 'This takes me back,' he croaked, lifting the straw from the mug and catching the drops with his tongue. 'And you're positive Buffy's alright?'

'I assure you that she's quite well, Spike, we just dropped her off at Xander's,' Giles said, crouching beside Joyce. 'Now please, if you're up to it...can you tell us what happened to you tonight?'

Spike took a long swallow of blood, glancing in embarrassment at Joyce and hastily wiping his mouth. 'I was waitin' for you all, in the park where Buffy said,' he began slowly, voice cracking here and there. 'Someone hit me before I got a look at them and that was it, goodnight Vienna. Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up in chains with Glory in my face.'

'Glory's minions must have seen you waiting there,' Giles mused. 'What did she want to know?'

'Where the Gateway is. Who the Slayer is. How to find her.'

'And what did you tell her?' Giles asked, heart clenching.

'I told her to take a long bloody walk off a short soddin' pier,' Spike said, sniffing, a touch of his old swagger returning.

'Thank you, Spike,' Joyce said warmly, squeezing his pale hand.

'My pleasure,' he wheezed, smiling shyly. 'Always was a sucker for a damsel in distress. Even when I was the one who put her there.'

'So our assumption was correct,' Giles said. 'Glory's lair is in that empty apartment building by the park.'

Spike nodded, taking another careful swallow. 'In the bloody penthouse, no less. Nothin' but the best for torturin' the innocent.'

'Innocent?' Giles repeated, eyebrows raised but tone gentle.

'In this instance, actually, for once, yeah,' Spike said, coughing a little as his throat caught.

'Okay, that's enough talking for now,' Joyce said firmly. 'Spike, drink up and then get some more rest. Rupert, let's give him some peace.' She waited while Spike drained the mug and took it from him, helping him to lay back down and pulling the comforter up to his neck.

'Thanks Mum,' Spike joked, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes.

Joyce just smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his brow. 'Sleep well,' she said, turning out the light.

Giles was in the kitchen, pouring boiling water into the teapot. 'Care for a cup?' he asked as Joyce entered.

'Yes please,' she said, rinsing the bloodied mug in the sink. 'You know, I never much cared for tea before, but I'm developing quite a taste for it now.'

'That's probably because you never had it made properly before,' Giles said, stirring the tea leaves in the pot. 'You Americans do many things well – television comedy, action films, barbecued meat – but there's not a single one of you who can make a proper cup of tea.' He added a dash of milk to two mugs, gave the pot one last stir and poured the golden-brown liquid. 'There. Perfect.'

'So is there anything else that English men do better than Americans?' Joyce asked teasingly, forgetting herself for a moment.

Giles froze. Joyce froze. Then a smile crept onto Giles's face, confident and masculine and all-too like that teenage grin she'd seen once before. 'There's a very good way to find out,' he said, his voice somehow deeper and huskier.

'Are you two going to have sex in there?' Anya shrilled in the background, shattering the mood. 'Only I don't think it's fair to make me listen to you copulating when I'm having to go without.'

'Anya,' Giles barked back, 'I would remind you that this is my home and that you are currently an uninvited guest!'

'Fine, go ahead,' she relented grouchily. 'Just try not to sound like you're enjoying it.'

Giles closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, and Joyce began to giggle. She couldn't help herself, it was just all too ridiculous.

Giles watched her, unable to keep back a smile. 'What?' he asked.

'Oh nothing,' Joyce giggled. 'Just that there's a beaten-up vampire in your bed who's given up evil because he loves my daughter, you're sleeping on your couch because my home's been invaded by a centuries-old mythical gateway, and we're being told off at five in the morning by a thousand-year-old ex-demon who's cranky because she's not getting laid.'

'Well, when you put it like that...' Giles began laughing too, big belly laughs that eased his tension and made him feel happier, lighter, than he had in a long, long while.

A/N the second: I just wanted to share my excitement that this story has been nominated for two Sunnydale Memorial awards. I can't express what an honour and privilege this is, or how much it means to me that other people care about what I write. Thank you times a million to whoever nominated me, and whoever votes for me. I am eternally grateful :o)