Chapter Two

Buffy's eyes snapped open.

"Fish!"

"Fish?" Spike furrowed his brow, wondering if his Slayer had fared well mentally while he was away. She nodded, hurriedly trying to tug her boots on, comically hopping about on one foot.

"Fish Man!" He supposed that was all the explanation he was going to get. He nodded to her; a slow, calculating nod with a tinge--no, more like an infestation--of confusion.

"Pet, you sure you feel alright? No big bumps on your noggin, not been speared by a hallucinogenic demon or nothing?"

Glare.

"Yes, I'm sure, but thank you for that tactful reminder of my temporary insanity.. And you'd better hope I didn't just hear you say 'temporary?'!" Buffy paused, mid-shoe, and looked up at Spike.

"Did I already ask what happened? In Africa, I mean? Or did I tell you about here? Do you know about here? Or was I just incoherent... Kinda like now?" Spike's eyes crinkled as he smiled.

"Mainly the last one. But dun worry, luv; It was cute." He sucked in his cheeks, just as he did when thinking about something particularly naughty. At this point, Buffy just didn't want to think about it.

"Good. I don't see myself spilling my heart to you anyway," she moved to go, but was brought up short when his arm snapped out. His eyes turned dangerous, sharp.

"Don't be so snoot, Slayer. Not like it hasn't happened before, yeh?"

Glare. Wow, a regular pattern. Comforting, almost, having something just stay the same. Dependable. Comforting...and still utterly gorgeous. Buffy strained to keep her face blank with a touch of impatience, but couldn't help but melt when she actually looked at him.

It'd been so long. Or felt so long--whichever it was, it hadn't been pleasant for her. Even when he was angry, or maybe especially when, he looked good. His hair had been tousled from her little bout with him the night before and now offset his blue eyes and dark demeanor.

Not so dark, she mused, really looking at him again. There was something noticeable... Something different...

Spike cantered his head to the side, quizzical look in place. What on earth was she doing? Why was she just standing there, looking at him? It almost looked approving... Desirous? A hint of a self-satisfied smirk found its way to the surface. He stepped towards her, his presence filling her senses, completely disarming her. She knew she wouldn't be able to resist when he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered quietly.

"You haven't properly welcomed me home, yet, pet," he reminded coyly. He felt her shudder, though not in revile. He lowered his mouth a tad lower, playfully nibbling at her earlobe.

"Doesn't a man get some pity for spending time in the place where the sun is brighter?"

Buffy stepped back, blushing. Oh, it felt good to have someone there for her again, even if it was just a sex thing.

"Dawn. School." She moved to leave.

"Buffy," his voice warned. "It's summer."

She colored again, but finally seemed to compose herself. She couldn't be sucked in again, not when she was so vulnerable--that's how it happened the first time. She was just using him.

"William. We're over. We've been over. Respect it." Buffy closed the heavy door behind her, barely missing the object which smashed against it a moment later.

Inside, "William" seethed. How dare she throw it in his face again after he had been there for her. He had been there for her! At first it had hurt that she didn't seem more enthused with his homecoming, but he sensed that her hurt was more profound.

Now it stung again.

He nearly flung himself out into the sunlight after her, almost forgetting himself. He heard his voice replay in his mind.

"It's only a matter of time before you realize that I'm the only one here for you, pet. You've got no one else!"

She thought to go to Willow. No, too depressing, and besides, no verbal advice there. Dawn was too young and Giles was too far away. Tara was the only one who she had the guts to tell about Spike. Blinking hard, Buffy had to remind herself that Tara was out. Maybe Xander...

At his building, she wrapped her arms around herself, just standing in front of his door. Buffy had rarely been scared in her life, but just seeing her only remaining friend made her nervous. She just didn't think she could handle it if he wasn't the way he used to be... Where was the fairness?

She opened the door to his apartment and was immediately assaulted by the lack of a woman's touch. His clothing was strewn about, both dirty and clean (though she doubted there was very much of the latter) and dishes were piled up in the sink. She knocked on the bedroom door and stood, waiting for some kind of reply.

A grunt. Buffy gingerly opened the door to a sight which she did not need to see.

Drunk, unshaven, filthy Xander. His eyes wandered from the small tv to her face and back again.

Another grunt. Possibly a greeting or perhaps a brush-off. Either way, it was too much to stand. She supposed he tried to get Anya back--again. The first few times he had tried to patch things up had been admirable, but now were just sad. Pathetic.

And yet so typical of this life to which Buffy was becoming slowly accustomed to. She let herself out quietly, waiting until the door clicked in the lock before moving to turn around. Before she had the chance, she heard a soft voice.

"You know... Slayers aren't supposed to have mates. Not for long, anyway. It's common sense, through and through, and you know it. You should be with the people that understand you... Are like you."

She steeled herself against the tears that she knew would follow in a moment. Funny how often she had cried now. She never used to. Buffy kept her back to him, not wanting to face the only one who had always laid out the truth for her, whether it hurt or not. More often than not, it did.

"Do you never leave me alone?" she asked, exasperated, and yet eerily calm. Spike leaned over to put a cool hand on her shoulder and was unprepared as Buffy wheeled around, backhanding him across the face, causing him to trip over his sun-shielding blanket.

"Stay out of my life! Why is that so unclear to you, Spike? Is your skull as thick as your..." Oh God, crossing boundaries. Back up, back up. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The vampire roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her further down the hallway, closer to the stairwell and not so close to Xander's.

"Listen here, Blondie," he growled, emphasizing himself with a good shake. "You need me. You need me and I'm here. Why do you have to turn down a free gift?"

Her cold eyes stunned him.

"Because nothing's ever free." Buffy flung open the door and stomped down the stairs, very much hoping to make it to the sunlight unhindered.

Spike slid down the wall, covering his face with his hands. What was it about her that made him care so much? He should be free of her and this hell, but here he was again. He hadn't been exaggerating when he had told her that he had no intention of returning. After what had happened in Africa...

His chest rose in a deep, unnecessary breath. When did it become so important for him to be there for her? He was a vampire, for Christ's sake--the state of the Slayer should never be top on his priority list.

But it was. And Spike knew it had started with love.

What was it that Dru had said once? "We can love quite well, if not wisely." That was it. How true she had turned out to be... Always was. Spike felt his lips turn up, just thinking about his Dark Queen. Perhaps...

No, she was in the past. Buffy was now and Buffy needed him. He would make her see it.

Spike's deep thoughts clouded him from the subconscious knowledge that someone was close. He could smell the person and since it wasn't her, what was the point?

The point came in the form of a sharp needle, quickly stabbed into his shoulder. His head lolled lazily to the side.

What's all this? he peered up at his "attacker" and snorted.

"Hey, you know that needles can't... hurt..." his sentence drowned itself out, leaving Spike to slump to the ground.