Chapter Four - We're Both British and Get the Humor

"Tell you what. Let's pop a movie in the video machine and work on getting rid of that headache." Spike said as he drank the last of the blood in his mug. Willow always made sure to have a few extra pints in the fridge for him. Spike stood up from the kitchen table and began to clear away the paper plates and napkins scattered about.

"Food helped, and so did the tea. I think I can walk without feeling every step I take thunder through my brain." Buffy replied as she gingerly stood. Spike reached over and laid a supporting hand on her elbow. He didn't even realize he had done it until Buffy cleared her throat and looked down at his hand wrapped around her elbow. Spike dropped her arm quickly and wordlessly walked into the living room. Buffy rolled her eyes. The gesture was - gallant. And charming. Something an eighteenth century gentleman would do. Not Spike. Her mind simply refused to reconcile the two different aspects of the man.

Buffy followed Spike into the living room and watched as he reached for the rental movie on top of the entertainment unit. He held it out for inspection. "The Truth About Cats and Dogs." He read. "A documentary?" he asked.

"A chick flick. About a woman who meets the man of her dreams, but he thinks she looks like someone else. Wackiness ensues." Buffy explained as she got comfortable on the couch.

Spike popped the movie in the VCR and pushed the play button. "So, I'm taking care of you, agreed?" he asked as he turned around.

"Until my headache goes away." Buffy amended quickly.

"Fine. Budge up." He said, pushing her down further on the couch.

"What? Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy exclaimed as Spike pushed her out of her seat. He grabbed the pillow and put it on his chest.

"Neck massage. Standard headache treatment." He said as he pulled her against his chest.

"This really isn't - oh!" Buffy exclaimed as Spike's cool hands found their way to a sore spot on her neck. His long, lean fingers massaged her neck muscles in strong, tension relieving strokes. Each caress magically erasing the pain.

"Hmmm. Never mind." Buffy purred, enjoying the relaxing ministrations of Spike's clever hands. Oh, did he have great hands. Buffy allowed herself to remember the things those clever hands did to her two weeks ago.

The movie started and Spike tried to pay attention. He didn't get it at all. Why was this bloke, Brian, even interested in Noelle? She was a pithy, vacuous emotionally vacant woman with poor taste in men. He couldn't see that Abby was the one he was looking for his whole life? Bloody poofter.

"How's Willow then?" Spike asked halfway through the movie.

"She's dealing. She's throwing herself back into her academics to keep away from the magics. It's going to take some time." Buffy said. Spike was no longer massaging her neck, but absently stroking her hair. It felt wonderful. Buffy's headache was nearly gone.

"She'll come out just fine. She has no choice with the likes of you and Xander on her side."

"Yeah, I can't help but feel guilty though," Buffy continued. "If I needed help with something, I asked Willow to do a spell. It was her identity within the Scoobies. Now, that's taken away from her and she feels less important."

Spike thought about that for a moment. It was true, each Scooby had their role within the group. Willow was no longer "The Witch". "Well, speaking from experience, I know how hard that can be. Thinking your one person and then waking up one day to discover your whole life has changed without your consent."

Buffy remained silent. "And you did everything in your power to try to change that. Including selling us out to Adam and kidnapping that doctor." She reminded him.

"Right, point is, we don't want to see Red follow that path, right? She was always good with research and using the computer and stuff, the trick is to convince her that those skills are just as important as her spells were. You got by before she learned magic, right? You'll get by again."

"I know. It'll be tough, especially if Dawn doesn't come around. I'm trying not to push her, but she's still really ticked off at Willow."

"She'll come around. It just takes kids longer to see other perspectives." Spike continued stroking Buffy's hair.

"Spike? What happened while I was gone?" Buffy asked quietly. "Everyone is so careful to avoid mentioning the summer. I was gone for nearly five months. I get the feeling that things happened, important things."

"Like what?" Spike asked, cocking his head and looking down at her.

"Well, before I died, you were still working on your own, helping out only when we paid you. You made no secret of the fact that you hated us, and the feeling was mutual. Nowadays, it's like you're a part of the group. I mean, here you are, asking me how Willow is doing and offering advice. My friends have accepted you as one of their own. I even caught you and Giles trading nudge-nudge, wink-wink jokes. How did that happen?"

"We're both British and get the humor?" Spike asked helpfully.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Your name comes up in conversation and it's normal, it's not even dressed up with colorful little metaphors and barbed adjectives." Buffy frowned. "Willow never even offers to do a de-invite spell anymore." She pouted.

Spike chuckled. "I knew there was a reason why my ears always burn whenever you girls get together."

"No, your name comes up from the others, usually. 'Spike took some gorel root without paying for it' or when I go out on patrol, Willow will ask if you're going with me. When you're not around for a few days, Dawn asks me if I know where you've been. Those kind of things."

She heard him take a long, unnecessary breath. "Buffy," he began.

"No Spike. No excuses. No more special Buffy treatment. Not from you." Buffy slid out of Spike's grasp and sat next to him on the couch, facing him.

"No, not from me," he agreed finally. He closed his eyes and let the memory wash over him. "It all started the night you died."

To be continued!