In the end, Buffy hadn't wanted to sleep alone. She ended up curled between Willow and Tara on the living room floor, wrapped in blankets and sleeping bags. She slept a thankfully dreamless sleep until noise from the kitchen woke her. Slipping out from between the two lovers, she shuffled into the kitchen to investigate. She found a disheveled Spike feeding a strange dog. He started when she came in, and the look that flashed across his face before he could stop it was heartbreaking.
"Did I wake you?" he asked nervously.
She shook her head. "Not really. I was waking up anyway."
He nodded and looked away, running a hand through his tousled hair. She noticed that it was longer and showed some serious roots, as if he hadn't been bothering to look after his appearance. After all that had happened, she wasn't terribly surprised to discover that. She moved closer and leaned against the counter.
"Where'd she come from?" she asked, pointing to the dog.
"The Pound. Nibblet wanted a dog."
She nodded. "Mom never let us have one. She wasn't too keen on pets."
"That's what Lil' Bit said."
Buffy gave the dog a good look. "She's kinda cute though."
"Yeah, she's all right. Not much in the brains department, although sometimes I think she's just faking it for our benefit."
She laughed. "Dogs can be like that. What's her name?"
"Annie."
"Ann's my middle name," she commented.
"I know," came the soft reply.
Silence fell between them and Buffy looked around. The clock on the microwave said 1:22, but she couldn't see outside to confirm it was early afternoon because of the heavy curtains that were drawn across the windows. The fact that they were closed pretty much told her what she needed to know anyway. She turned her gaze to Spike, who now had his back to her as he put a kettle on the stove and fussed with a can of coffee. His shoulders were extremely tense, his movements quick and abrupt. Steeling her resolve, she approached him carefully.
"Spike, I"
He jerked at the sound of her voice and hopped away, his eyes wide. She gave him a scrutinizing look and moved closer, only to have him shift away again. It became obvious that he was keeping her out of his personal space, but she didn't really understand why. She would have thought he'd be all over her by now.
"Spike" she tried again.
"Not here. Not now. When we're alone. Please," he begged in answer, and she looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.
He let her see the raw and aching need on his face for just a moment, and then she understood. He wasn't touching her because he needed to keep tight controls on himself and contact with her would break that resolve. She was familiar enough with Angel to recognize it when she saw it, but she could only guess at Spike's motivations. She nodded and accepted the fact that she would have to find out later.
"How's Dawn?" she asked, changing the subject to something they could both agree on.
"Still dea sleeping," he replied, catching himself before he could say dead to the world.' "But that's to be expected. Will said something about her being completely drained. She'll prolly sleep until sundown. Which is fine with me because it gives me time to figure out how I want to feel."
"I know what you mean," she admitted.
"I mean, I should be angry, y'know. I warned her to stay away from the mojo. I told her it was too dangerous. I even threatened to spank her bum if I caught her doing anything stupid."
"I'll bet that went over well."
"Like a lead balloon. Thing is, I thought she was listening to me, y'know? And now I find out she's been playing all of us like bloody violins. She had to have been planning this for weeks, sneaking around behind our backs, and we had no idea. I had no idea. I should feel manipulated, betrayed, used" He paused to look at her, his eyes wide. "But then I look at you, and you're the answer to all my prayers. And I can't be mad. No matter how she did it, or the lies she told, the end result is that I get everything I wanted. How can I be mad at her for that?"
She was going to answer when he cut her off.
"How do you like your eggs?"
She was nonplussed at first, but then she realized what he was doing and gave him a wry smile. "William the Bloody, making breakfast. What will the demon underworld think of you now?"
He grabbed a pan and spatula, waving it threateningly. "You'd better not tell anyone or I'll have to ki"
The words caught in his throat, but she knew what he'd been about to say, and the pain on his face was too much for her to bear.
"I like omelets," she answered truthfully.
"I can do omelets."
"With cheese, and mushrooms and onions and" She gave him a knowing smile. "Garlic."
He grinned at her, thankful for the jibe. "Sorry, pet. Don't do garlic. Can't stand the bloody stuff. If you want garlic, you'll have to make your own bleedin' omelet."
"I would, but I don't think I could lift the pan right now," she admitted with a frown. "As it is, I'm barely standing."
He dropped the pan to the stove and whipped a chair out for her to sit.
"Then sit down for God's sake. No need to put on an act for my sake," he said as she sat down. "Here, I'll make you a cuppa."
As she sat, she watched him pour the boiling water from the stove into a French Press and strain the coffee grinds.
"How do you like your coffee?" he asked.
"Oh, umm with cream and three sugars."
The cup was in front of her before she even finished the sentence.
"How are you feeling, by the way," he asked tenderly.
She took a sip of the coffee, surprised by how good it was. "Weak. Shaky. Confused as all Hell. I mean, technically I've come back from the dead before, but last time I was only dead for a few minutes, not months."
"It's understandable that you'd be disoriented."
"Disoriented? Spike, I'm completely freaked. I'm still not sure this is all real or just a dream."
"If it's a dream, please don't wake me up. I really like it here," came the gentle reply.
She took another sip of her coffee and nodded. There were no real words to say to that, not if they were to keep the conversation light enough for them to handle. There would be other words, heavier words, later.
"So, all your pieces and parts in good working order? All your fingers and toes?" he questioned, breaking her out of her thoughts.
She shrugged. "Haven't found anything that doesn't work yet."
Her stomach took that moment to growl and they both laughed nervously. Spike turned to the refrigerator and began taking items out.
"One cheese, mushroom and onion omelet coming right up."
"I was joking about the garlic, you know."
"I know," he replied, fussing over the ingredients. "You want biscuits?"
"Sure."
He nodded that he had heard her and took more items from the fridge, whipping up a quick batter with flour, eggs and milk and putting the biscuits in the oven to bake.
Buffy sat, sipping her coffee and watching as Spike made breakfast in her kitchen. The entire scene was surreal and she watched with odd detachment as he deftly made his way about the room, chopping the onion and mushrooms, and sautéing the omelet ingredients in the pan. The dog barked to be let out and he opened the door without missing a beat, sidestepping just enough to stay out of the sunlight. Within a few minutes, she saw him skillfully flip the omelet over and catch it with the pan as if he'd been making omelets all his life and it was as natural to him as breathing. Then she remembered that vampires didn't breathe.
"Mmmm, what's that smell?" Willow's sleepy voice asked as she shuffled in, rubbing her eyes. "Ooohhh, Spike's making breakfast"
"Hot water on the stove for your tea, luv, and biscuits in the oven," Spike called over his shoulder. "Want eggs?"
"Umm, yeah, thanks. The usual," Willow said, perking up as she sat next to Buffy. Spike made an acknowledging noise that he had heard her breakfast request but otherwise did not say anything more. "Good morning Buffy. Or should I say good afternoon?"
"Whatever. Doesn't matter to me," she replied, drinking more of her coffee. "I take it Spike does the breakfast thing often?"
Willow shrugged. "Often enough. He makes great biscuits."
"And speaking of biscuits" Spike interrupted, leaning around Buffy to place a plate with her omelet and two biscuits on it in front of her. "Breakfast is served. Eat up."
He refilled her coffee and brought ketchup, milk and sugar to the table.
"Who is he and what has he done with Spike?" Buffy asked in a mock whisper.
Willow giggled and shrugged again. "Dunno. He's been like this since"
"I can hear you, you know," Spike announced, scrambling eggs for Willow.
Buffy took a bite of her omelet and made appreciative noises. "God, this is good. Forget what I said about wondering what you've done with Spike. I'm keeping you."
"Glad to hear it. Did I mention that I spiced the eggs with strychnine?"
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, right. Watch it, Bleach Boy or I won't dye your roots for you."
Spike spun around, spatula still in hand and shock on his face. "You'd" he began but stopped as Giles entered the kitchen.
"Oh good, you made coffee," the Watcher said, pouring himself a cup.
"Yeah, French Roast," Spike answered.
Giles sniffed the mug and sighed. "Wonderful. Thank you, Spike."
"Eggs?"
"No thank you, but I'll have some biscuits and jam."
"Fresh ones in the oven. Help yourself," the vampire said, returning to Willow's eggs.
"Is Tara up?" Willow asked as Giles sat down.
"She got up to go to the bathroom. We should be seeing her in a minute. And I think I heard Xander and Anya moving about upstairs."
"Just as long as moving about is all they are doing," Buffy muttered, earning her a chuckle from Willow.
Annie barked and Spike served Willow her eggs, let the dog in, took the fresh biscuits out of the oven and put them on the table with the jam all in one fluid, impressive maneuver. Then he made himself a cup of hot chocolate and sat down across from Buffy while Willow and Giles grabbed for biscuits and fought good-naturedly over the jam. A few minutes later, Tara, Anya and Xander joined them in the kitchen.
"We smelled biscuits," Anya admitted.
"Fresh batch on the table," Spike announced, sitting back comfortably to watch as his biscuits were hastily consumed. Buffy thought she could see the pride dancing in his eyes.
"How's Dawn?" Willow asked.
"She's still sleeping," Tara answered. "I looked in on her a few moments ago."
"Are we sure she's all right?" Spike questioned.
"I think so. I mean, physically she appears fine and I don't think we have any reason to believe she's anything but exhausted. At least not yet," Tara replied.
"Do we have any idea how she was able to cast such a- a powerful and complex spell?" Giles asked.
Tara shrugged. "I think we forget too easily that Dawn wasn't always human. She may be a fifteen-year-old girl, but The Key is still inside of her. Who knows what she is capable of or what The Key knows. And it doesn't help that the spell the monks cast programs us to think of Dawn as something that needs to be protected. I guess we really can't be all that terribly surprised that she was able to do what she did. I've always Felt the power in her."
"Which brings us back to a question we've never answered. Is Dawn dangerous?" Giles commented.
"About as dangerous as any powerful witch," Willow answered. "We probably should try to train her. I mean, that would be okay now, right? Now that Glory is dead Dawn's safe."
"Wait a minute. Glory is dead?" Buffy interrupted.
Six sets of eyes turned to her then nervously looked away.
"Buffy Ben didn't make it," Giles admitted softly.
They saw her sigh and her shoulders slump.
"I see. So I did kill him then."
"No!" Giles blurted. "No, you didn't ah kill him. He died because"
"I killed him," Spike lied, his jaw tight, ignoring the surprised yet grateful glance from Giles.
Buffy gave him an incredulous look. "You killed him?"
"Yeah. Glory was trying ta come back and I saw him fightin' with her so I went over and snapped his neck."
"With The Chip in your head?" Buffy commented.
Spike shrugged. "I was already in so much pain already, what was a little searing migraine on top of everything else? Look, Slayer, as long as Ben lived, so did Glory. You made me promise to protect Dawn. I saw an opportunity to get rid of the one thing that was the biggest threat to the Nibblet, so I took it."
His expression dared her to challenge him and for a moment it looked like she was going to, but then her eyes lowered and she nodded.
"You're right. As long as Ben lived, Glory was a threat to Dawn. I just couldn't bring myself to kill him. Thank you for having the strength to do what needed to be done," she said, shocking them all.
"Yeah, well. You threw yourself off a bloody tower to save us all so I guess we're even," the vampire begrudgingly admitted.
Buffy and Spike locked eyes across the table, each silently acknowledging that there was a great deal more that needed to be said, until Anya broke the tense silence.
"Would somebody pass the biscuits and jam, please?"
