Homecoming pt. 13

Xander stood at the bedroom door. "I have to pick up some things after work, then I'll meet you tomorrow night about seven. Near the entrance to the cemetery, if you don't mind. If you want me to help you with this, it's better I don't end up as somebody's evening meal, if you know what I mean."

"Right," Spike replied from his seat at the edge of Buffy's bed. "And Harris, thanks."

"Don't thank me yet." Xander turned to leave, before saying over his shoulder, "Can't have the Buffster living in a rock pit. Now I just have to make it livable. No pressure."

Buffy smiled as her friend walked out the door. "Thanks for not going all 'grr argh' on him, Spike. I know you wanted to, just a little."

Spike curled up next to her. "The boy's hurtin'. And he's goin' to help us. Eatin' him would be counterproductive."

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his hand stroking her arm. "Yeah, Mr. Big Bad. You'd better not."

Giles poked his head through the door. "Xander's gone. And look what I brought for you, Buffy."

"Oh, joy," she moaned. "More soup."

"Ah," Giles exclaimed, "But this is chicken noodle. And whole wheat toast."

Buffy reached for the tray, but Spike took it first. He sat in on the night table, picking up the plate so she could take a slice of the toast. "What," she said, "they didn't have white?"

Spike looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Eat, Slayer. And don't be so picky." He supported her so she could sit up as she ate, watching her nibble at the toast. "Good girl."

"I should say," Giles smiled. "Would you like me to order up a pot of tea?"

"Yes, please," Spike replied.

"I meant for Buffy, but I'll get enough for everyone."

"Giles," Buffy asked. Do you mind if I sleep with Spike tonight?"

"Oh." Giles caught his breath. "Do you really ... I mean, you're still very weak. You are an adult, but, well ..."


"Gutter brain, stop cleaning your glasses. I meant sleep, as in Spike stays here all night. Geez."

The phone rang in the other room. "I wonder who that could be?" Giles hurried out the door.

"Do I have to drink tea?" Buffy asked. "When I was little, my mom would give me ginger ale when I was sick."

Spike kissed the top of her head. "Then ginger ale you shall have."

Giles poked his head back into the room. "Spike, could I see you for a moment?"

Spike put the soup bowl he had just picked up back on the tray, rose from the bed and left the room. Giles' tone had been grave.

Buffy waited quietly for the two men to re-enter. Her heart sank at the look on their faces. Spike climbed onto the bed and took her in his arms. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong? It's Dawn, isn't it? What's wrong with Dawn?"

"Shhh," Spike soothed, "It's not Niblet. I'm sure she's fine."

"Buffy," said Giles. "I've been trying to track down your father through my contacts in Europe. I thought I could force him to take financial responsibility for you girls. I'm so sorry." He couldn't bear to see the fear on her face, but he continued. There was no easy way. "That call was from Berne. Your father won't be able to help. He suffered a heart attack. He's dead, Buffy."

Buffy's face froze. Her spirit was already overloaded. How could she take another blow? She waited for the tears she thought must come. Her eyes were empty. How strange.

"I'm so sorry, pet." He stroked her head. "My poor baby."

Her words seemed to come from far away. "I'm an orphan now."

"Yes, love. I know. But you aren't alone. Never alone."