Chapter Two -- Faint of Heart



Buffy awoke the sometime the next morning, stiff and dazed. Glancing around her empty room, she found her robe as she'd left it and pulled it on tightly around her. Without it, she'd feel naked and scarred before the eyes of her friends.
She moved downstairs, the smell of fresh coffee waking her up slightly as she approached the kitchen.
"Good morning!" Dawn chirped, her head inside the refrigerator. "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes."
Buffy walked in, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn. "I've only been asleep two hours?" she asked.
"Yes, party girl," Willow teased her, as she sliced strawberries. Tara was behind the pan, carefully cooking the hotcakes. "And where were you till five this morning?"
"On patrol," Buffy said, praying that her friend wouldn't be curious to know more details.
But Dawn was curious. "Alone?"
Buffy shook her head no. "I was with Spike."
The three women grew quiet as they continued preparing breakfast which Buffy knew that they were only trying to cheer her up. It wouldn't work. At least not today.
"Xander and Anya are coming over later," Willow said, breaking the thick silence with bantor. "They said they'd bring over a couple movies and we could order take-out."
"Something new and exciting for us!" Dawn offered, closing the door and setting a pitcher of orange juice down. "We don't get to sit and eat out often, do we?"
Buffy sighed into her hand, trying to show with her body language that they were trying too hard. What had happened to subtelty? "Would it be all right if Spike comes over?"
The women grew quiet again as Tara put a stack of steaming hotcakes onto a plate and handed it to Dawn. "I don't think we'd mind," Dawn finally spoke up. "As long as you two don't get rough."
Buffy felt the lightest glow of pink touch her cheeks. Dawn was only kidding of course, or maybe she was trying to funny. Point was, she had no idea how intense Buffy's feelings for Spike really were. He was the one holding her sanity together.
"So let's say eight?" Willow asked cheerfully, pushing a steaming plate towards Buffy. She sat down across from Dawn and reached for the pitcher to pour juice.
"Eight it is," Buffy echoed silently. "But I go on patrol at midnight."
Tara looked up from her plate. "We'll be done in plenty of time, Buffy. Don't worry."
Buffy shrugged and picked at her plate. Suddenly she didn't feel very hungry.

****

It was getting to be late afternoon at the crowded airport in London. Rupert Giles was sitting in an uncomfortable black chair, attempting to read while chaos went on around him.
"I believe you called."
Giles turned in his seat, his back painfully cracking to see his visitor. "I see you came."
The figure went and sat down on the spare seat to his right. "What is this all about anyway?"
"I know that you and Buffy had a falling out..." he began.
"It was more than a falling out," the woman sighed. "I completely turned against her."
Giles sighed. "I need your help. My network in Sunnydale tells me that Buffy is about two slayings from insanity. And the one person holding her together she didn't trust before."
The woman nodded. "Spike."
Giles looked surprised. "You've met?"
"Yes," the woman nodded, looking at her feet. "We did not get along very well."
"It appears he has taken a rather fond interest in our slayer," Giles concluded.
The woman turned to him, her agitation growing. "Why the sudden interest in Buffy? I thought you quit being her watcher."
"Retiring from being a watcher and to quit caring about what happens to someone are two very different things," Giles replied, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Do you have anything with you?"
The woman glanced down at herself. "Is this all I need?"
"I was thinking more of supplies," he replied dryly. "Clothing, make-up, accessories and whatever else you women carry with you."
"Relax, Giles," the woman replied, setting her hand on his knee. "I already had my luggage checked. I never come unprepared."
Giles sighed in relief. "I'm glad because this is one time I want us to be prepared. The slayer is about to meet her match. Alone."

****

Buffy pulled open the door. Spike stood on the other side, a silly smirk covering his darkly powerful face. "Love!" he announced, inviting himself in.
Buffy closed the door, trying not to let her irritation show. "Lucky for you, no one else is here. They went for supplies. Come in, why don't you?"
"Don't mind if I do," Spike said, glancing around. "What's the party for anyways?"
"It's called fun," Buffy replied coolly. "But you wouldn't have any idea about that, an old man like you?"
Spike ignored her lude comments and turned to her. "Aren't you going to greet me?"
"I did," Buffy blinked. "Didn't you notice?"
"No," Spike chided her as he closed the distance between them in a few steps. "But I know why. You want me."
Buffy's eyes widened. "I do not!"
"Prove it!" Spike taunted her, lifting his arms and spinning.
Buffy felt agitation and something else growing inside her. The intense feeling was returning. "Fine. Want me to grab my stake?" she asked in a shaky tone, reaching for the stake she'd kept handy on the coffee table and raising it to face him. "I'll show you how serious I can be."
"You bluff," Spike called her on it, laughing.
Buffy couldn't reply as she stood right in front of him, moving the stake to his chest and holding it there. "Do I?" she asked in her shakiest tone. "Do I look afraid?"
Spike bent down, his face a mere inch from hers. "Not in the least."
Buffy stared into his eyes, feeling lost and drawn into them.
The stake fell to the floor as Buffy placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him back.
Spike pushed her back, harder.
Buffy tried a second time, almost losing her balance tripping over the stake. Spike seized the opportunity and pushed her against the wall, his lips crushing hers.
Her fingers combed through his hair her body pressing into his, her thoughts melting away. Her trembles subsided as she wrapped herself around him, wanting more.
Spike pulled her up, his lips moving down her neck. "Your scent..." he breathed it in, "is so sweet... like a woman scorned."
Buffy opened her eyes and pushed him away slightly. "Spike," she rasped, sidestepping him.
He took her hand and held it. "I'm not letting you go without a fight."
Buffy turned to him just as the front door opened.
"We're here!" Willow announced, bringing a large white bag, along with Dawn, Tara, Xander and Anya into the living room. Willow came in first, her face registering surprise at what she saw.

****

Giles hung up the phone and turned back to the woman, who was standing impatiently behind him, her luggage at her side.
"So?" she asked, the edge in her tone undaunting.
"I spoke with Angel myself," Giles said, blinking. "I wanted to hear his voice, to tell him the truth about what is going on."
The woman glanced at him. "What exactly is going on?"
Giles turned and began walking toward his New York gate. "The beginning of the end."