**PART ONE**
CHAPTER FOUR:

"Stop it!" She batted a hand away as it dipped in the dishwater to find hers.

"What? I'm helping." He protested, threading his arms around her waist and pressing himself against her back. His head rested on her right shoulder and she smiled internally at the intimacy of their stance.

"No, you're distracting me. Again." She tapped him on the nose with a wooden spoon leaving a blob of soapsuds that he didn't bother to wipe away.

"Me? Never. Just forget I'm here, go back to doing... whatever it is you're doing there."

"Washing the dishes, Spike. I'm washing the dishes, it hardly ranks high on the male fantasy top-one-hundred."

"What, are you kidding? The Slayer being all domestic whilst wearing nothing more than a... *very* thin bathrobe, this is the stuff fantasies were made of, or should be." He wriggled against her back, rocking her slightly from side to side.

She scoffed and was about to speak when all thought was expelled from her mind. The hand that had been absently toying with and loosening the knot of her belt slipped inside the material. She caught her breath as cool fingers made contact with the heated flesh of her abdomen. A ring finger dipped into her navel and from there his fingertips tapped a circular rhythm of caresses spiralling gradually outward: Higher, wider and lower.

"Like I said... forget I'm here." He nuzzled into her neck.

Her throat emitted some kind of indistinguishable sound as a reply and she gazed uncomprehendingly at the bubbly water her hands were submerged in. Closing her eyes, she gave into the sensations ebbing and flowing from his touch and leant back against him. Her mind rocking with the same peculiar seasickness she now associated with him.

The circle expanded slowly until finally its arc reached its zenith. Up to trace the under-edge of her breasts, wide and down her right side, following the groove of each rib. His fingers danced over the arch of her hip and down to skip through her curls.

Her hands emerged from the water with a splash and slammed down onto the worktop in a desperate need for stability as his fingers dipped between her thighs -

"Hi, Buffy. I'm home."

The slam of the front door affirmed her fear and they parted with start, fleeing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

She scrambled with the fastening of her robe, her cheeks burning with interrupted lust and rising panic. She glanced quickly at Spike whose countenance was alternating between menace and nonchalance in an attempt to decide how to act. Imploring him with her eyes he settled into a casual pose, picking up his cocoa and leaning back against the units. He winked at her and she didn't have time to decide whether to be frustrated or reassured by the action as Dawn's head and then body entered the kitchen.

"Buffy, whose is that car -?" Her sister's eyes widened as she took in the scene and her inquisitive stare settled on Spike. Her brow furrowed as if the sight of him prompted some thought process. "Oh, it's you." She said finally and with a shrug she made her way over to the fridge. "Guess that answers that question."

Buffy watched in disbelief of the level of indifference Dawn was showing as her sister poured herself a glass of orange juice. "So, your girlfriend dump you again?"

"Something like that." Spike bowed his head and glanced into the mug he was holding almost protectively to his chest.

"Thought so. I can smell the cocoa. Did you give him the marshmallows?"

"Huh?" Buffy grunted, glancing from one to the other.

"Those little marshmallows, he likes those. Don't you?"

"Um, yeah. I do."

"Uh... We don't have any, I don't think."

"Sure we do." Dawn rummaged in the cupboard behind her and turned up a half-packet of said marshmallows. She threw them almost blindly to him and he caught them easily with his free hand.

"Thanks." A small smile crossed his lips, an actual genuine smile devoid of his usual sadistic sarcasm. Buffy thought she was seeing things for a moment but no, it was there.

Again.

"Dawn... you remember him?"

"Yeah, he's that Vampire that came to the house a couple of years back, all strung-out over some mad woman." Dawn clicked her fingers, trying to grasp something. "S-S-Skipper, right?"

Spike glared at her momentarily before affirming: "Spike!"

"Whatever. You do realise Mom's not here to listen to your whining this time though, don't you? I mean she's n-not... she's..."

"Yeah, so I heard." He nodded and as Dawn mirrored it.

Buffy had to blink and reassess the scene but it was happening. Dawn liked him? (How is this possible? Someone wake me up now and tell me these past two days have been a dream. Tell me my whole life has been a dream, especially that horrible part where mom died.)

"Buffy, why are you not dressed, I mean it's -" Dawn paused and her eyes squinted and she looked from Buffy to Spike, her lips forming an 'o' before the sound emerged from her mouth. "Oh...oh right... Well, you sure made the most of me being out of the way, didn't you sis?"

"I - I..." Buffy floundered. "I don't know what you're suggesting, Dawn -"

"Yeah, I just got here." He helped her out and her mind drifted back to something similar, familiar. ('She's a hell on the old skins.')

"You just got here, huh?"

"Yeah, right, just popped in for a cuppa." He motioned towards his mug.

"Then where are your shoes and socks?"

Three sets of eyes fell to his bare feet. His toes wiggled under the sudden attention. "Umm... Just giving them a breather."

"Skipper, please don't insult my adolescent one-track mind when for once it's on the right track. Besides Buffy's all frumpled, she's never frumpled--I mean, look at her hair."

Buffy's hand shot to her head and she felt for herself. Her eyes shot to Spike in a glare that said, very loudly: 'How could you not tell me?' He shrugged casually and the smirk was back.

God, she hated him.

"You have bed-hair at this time of the evening. You never have bed-hair. Not even after you and Riley -"

"Riley?" His interest diverged upon the name and Buffy tried in vain to silence Dawn with a deep-throated cough.

"Her last boyfriend." Dawn said matter-of-factly. She took a sip of juice before continuing. She was loving this, Buffy could tell. "You know her type: tall, broad-shouldered, full of muscle... only not much between the ears."

Spike's face clouded darker with every word and when he looked at Buffy she was helpless to do anything more than gape like a fish.

"Maybe he compensated for it in other areas though, I-"

"Dawn!" Dawn started and stared at her sister with teenage defiance. "What?"

"Enough, OK. You were right." Dawn came up with a self-satisfied smirk of her own.

"I knew it! Don't worry, I won't tell Mo-" She stopped herself and as her eyes fell to the floor silence fell on the three of them stretching and growing in life-spans of eternities. "No. Of course I won't." Dawn met Buffy's eyes and they shared a moment of silent reassurance. "So, what's for dinner?"

Spike's stomach chose that moment to make its presence known, earning him an amused glance from both Buffy and Dawn.

"Dinner sounds good. Could just fancy a nice redhead." The amusement faded and was replaced by disgust. "Er... I mean -"

"I'll get you some blood from the butchers." Buffy interrupted him. "I'll get us some take-out whilst I'm out. How 'bout that?" She glanced at Dawn who responded with an enthusiastic nod. "...Only I can't go out and leave you here can I?"

"Sure you can."

"No, Dawn... I can't leave you by yourself. You know that."

"Well I won't be on my own will I?" Dawn looked pointedly at Spike and that was when it hit.

Trust. That's what it all came down to. That's what he been trying to tell her last night. She looked to him and he stared blankly back, offering nothing. It had to be her decision and she had to make it final. Either way she couldn't go back. Either way she would pay hugely if she made the wrong choice. Those eternities began multiplying in earnest.

Taking a deep breath she steeled herself before giving him a look which said it all: 'Anything happens to her, I *will* stake you.' He nodded almost imperceptibly and she went to get dressed.

Entering the back door, she placed their paper bag wrapped dinners on the kitchen sideboard and was about to call out when a scream cut her off. Her heart stopped.

Dawn.

Switching instantly to Slayer mode, she raced into the dark hall. A thundering of heavy footsteps brought her attention to the stairs just in time to see a blast of Dawn's pink sweater burst past her. She didn't hear his footsteps but she saw the swoop of black that jumped over the banister and she cut off his momentum, tackling him to the ground with force. (Here is where I start paying, I guess.) She stood over the heap that now passed for Spike and eyed him with the stare that belied her internal quivering.

"Buffy? ... Buffy, what are you doing?" Dawn stomped back into the hall and looked down at Spike.

"Dawn, what's going on?" (Please, somebody tell me. I can't - I don't -)

"He was helping me. You know, with my drama project. I thought it'd be cool if I could do this sort of horror and film it from the point of view of the attacker. And me being me, I did what I do best and bullied him into it."

"What?" It was then that she saw the camcorder he was holding. "Oh... I see. I - I'm s..." She took a step back and gave him room to stand. Unable to look at him, she was grateful for the lack of light.

"Jeez, Buffy." Dawn took the camcorder off Spike with a grin and wandered off. "I have to go check this out. Thanks, Skipper." She flicked the light-switch back up before starting off upstairs.

"No problem, pet."

And she was gone, leaving them alone. Buffy stared after Dawn for a few more seconds than necessary before facing the music. She winced as their eyes met.

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course I do. You know, you being my mortal enemy and the bane of my existence and all." His face was as deadpan as his delivery but his eyes were smiling and she knew she was safe. Maybe in more ways that one. "That's the thing about trust you see. It doesn't come for granted, you have to earn it."

She stared at him in unconcealed amazement. "Where did you get so...? How can you be so...?" With a conceding shake of the head, she stepped into him, sighing as she came to rest against him. "I don't get you."

"No, me neither." He hesitated momentarily before his arms closed around her, enfolding her with his scent.

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