AN: I apologize in advance for this chapter. It's not a very interesting one. It's one of those necessary filler chapters. You need it for the rest of the story, but alone it's kinda lame. It's, as my wonderful beta would say, a "stepping stone." I tried my best to spice it up. Hope you guys enjoy it. Make sure to review it either way. I really appreciate the reviews you guys have left so far. You have no idea how much they mean to me. Keep em' coming! :)

* * * * * * * * * *

A New Beginning

Chapter 1

**Nighttime. One week later.**

Buffy and the SIT's were gathered around the island counter in the kitchen. The girls were busy eating pizza and chips that they'd somehow managed to scrounge from the house. Buffy knew that someone was going to need to learn to cook- and fast. Pizza, chips, and soda everyday was not the best diet for a potential slayer to be on. Actually, it wasn't the best diet for anyone to be on. Buffy sighed and headed for the fridge. Maybe she could find some lettuce and make a salad.

"Evening all."

Buffy turned around to see Spike walk into the kitchen. He had his normal attire of black pants and shirt. His hair, however, was anything but normal. It was all wavy and messy. Little corkscrew curls ran wild on his head. It was quite cute. 'Wait. Cute? No! "Spike" and "cute"? Not in the same sentence. Bad Buffy!' While Buffy was busy berating herself for thinking such things, the SIT's were busy saying hello. And giggling.

Spike frowned. He never would understand teenage girls. They were always so giggly about something or other. "Glad to see you're all chipper tonight."

Buffy smiled at his obliviousness to both his hair and the girl's giggles. Okay, even she couldn't live in denial forever. The whole thing was quite adorable. Buffy sighed and began to rummage through the cabinets in search of something else. Maybe some soup or something. Anything but pizza again.

Meanwhile, Spike had pulled a packet of blood out of the fridge and poured it in a mug. He was now on his way to the microwave. As he passed by her, she turned around, walking right into him.

"Sorry!" they apologized in unison. They both proceeded to get nervous, not used to such close contact.

"Hmm. Small kitchen," Buffy said as she sidled past him, heading for more cabinets.

"Right," Spike replied, following her to the microwave beneath the very cabinets that Buffy was searching through.

The SIT's proceeded to exchange looks. The kinds that meant they knew there was more going on between them than they'd like to admit.

Spike popped the mug in the microwave and began to heat the blood as Buffy continued to search, mumbling curse words as she went, complaining that there was "nothing to eat in this damn house." Spike smiled. She was so cute when she talked to herself like that.

All of a sudden she let out a very loud profanity when she banged her head on the bottom of the cabinet. One of the cans teetered precariously on the edge before falling, heading straight for Buffy's already bruised head. Spike reached out and caught the can before it barely left the shelf.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You oughta be careful, luv. Don't wanta get hit in the head with…" He looked at the can. "Chicken noodle soup."

"Oh. Thank you. Just what I was looking for," she replied, taking the can from him and heading off to get a pot. Spike just grinned at her.

When the microwave finally dinged Spike opened the door and took out the mug. 'Here's to my health,' he thought as he started to drink. All of a sudden, he choked as he felt a jolt of pain shot through him.

"Owww," he hissed under his breath.

Buffy had her head stuck in yet another cabinet searching for a pot when she heard him. She pulled her head out and turned to him. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern clearly evident in her tone and on her face.

Spike shook his head as if trying to clear it and then turned to her to answer. "Yeah. I'm fine. Must be the blood. Not…fresh or something. I'll just try a different one."

When Buffy still looked concerned, Spike stepped closer to her and smiled. "I'm fine," he whispered firmly but gently. "Blood can go bad sometimes. It's no big deal. I'll just pour it out and try another. You just make sure you take care of feeding yourself. You need your strength."

Buffy smiled at his concern for her and replied, "Yeah. Right. Good idea." She went back to the cabinet to continue looking for a pot.

Spike poured the blood out in the sink and proceeded to wash the mug. If the blood was bad, he should get rid of all of it. When he was done, he rinsed out the sink and took the mug back to the fridge, where he pulled out another packet of blood. He opened it up a bit in the corner and took a quick sniff. It smelled fine to him. He poured it out in the mug and brought it back to the microwave.

When it was done, he pulled it out and sniffed it again. Same as usual. He then, very carefully, took a tiny sip. Yup, tasted okay too. He started to drink it and he'd soon polished it off. He completely missed the wary look Buffy was shooting him from her perch at the stove.

Spike rummaged through his bag in search of his gel. He'd completely forgotten to put it on before going downstairs. Without a reflection it was a little hard for him to check his appearance in the morning. Or…at night. Spike cursed as his search continued in vain. He knew he'd put the damn stuff back in there yesterday.

All of a sudden, Spike hissed as a jolt of pain laced through him. 'Dammit. That whole batch musta been bad,' he thought to himself, rubbing his head to try and get the pain to stop.

When it subsided, he went back to his bag and dug around some more.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, pulling out the tube of gel. There was no way in hell he'd go out training with his hair looking they way it was.

As he popped off the top, another jolt of pain laced through him, worse than the other two. "Dammit!" he cursed as his hand went to his head again. "Bad blood's never done stuff like this before." He paused, waiting for it to pass, and then began to fix his hair.

"Hey, you!"

Spike shot around to find Buffy standing in the doorway. "What?"

"You can do that somewhere else. Someone needs to use her room to change."

Spike smiled. He forgot sometimes that he was staying in Buffy's room. She'd had him sleeping in her bed for awhile after she rescued him. She said he needed a good bed to heal properly. Then, when he'd insisted she needed her own bed again, not some cot on the floor, she took it back. He'd intended to move back to Xander's, but Buffy said that since even Xander rarely went home anymore, he might as well stick around too. He'd then insisted he move somewhere else in the house. But Buffy had put her foot down and insisted he stay in her room on the cot. She'd said that there was really no where else in the house left, and since she wasn't sharing a room with anyone, he might as well stay. Spike had wanted to ask why she didn't share with Willow or someone, but Buffy had given him "the look". The one that said "I'm the Slayer. Either you do what I say or I kick your ass." So Spike had given in to her insistence and he'd now taken up residence on a cot in her room. That's how he'd come to find himself being pushed out the door.

"I'll be out in ten. You'll be ready by then?"

"Sure thing pet. It's not like I have much to do to get ready seeing as I'm a vamp. And a guy."

Buffy grinned playfully at him. "Watch it mister or you'll find yourself sleeping outside. In the sun."

"Yes ma'am!" he answered, making sure to stand up straight and salute.

Buffy shook her head and closed the door.

Spike sighed and headed off the find someplace where he could fix his hair.

Fifteen minutes later, Spike was sitting on the couch in the living room. He was curled up in a ball to the side of the couch, arms crossed and his head resting on the arm. The shots of pain he'd been feeling hadn't stopped. In fact, they seemed to be getting worse. They now left a constant throbbing in their wake.

Spike looked up when he heard Buffy coming down the stairs. He sat up as quickly as he could, moaning as the sudden action caused his head to spin. He ignored it and continued to make his pose look more natural. He didn't want to worry Buffy any more than he already had. She'd been, as she might say, "wigging out", since he got back from his torture session with the First. The poor girl had enough to deal with without having to worry about him.

Buffy continued down the stairs. Spotting Spike on the couch, she asked, "Ready to go?"

'How do I break it to her easy?' he thought to himself. After a few seconds, he replied, "Actually, if it's all the same to you luv, I think I'll sit this one out."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm just not feelin' up to it tonight."

"Up to it? Why? Are you okay?"

'Shit. Way to go you wanker. That'll keep her calm.' Out loud, he answered, "I'm fine. I think I just slept wrong this morning. Muscles are feeling kinda achy. Think I should give them a rest."

"Yeah? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Your ribs are okay?"

"Peachy."

"Okay. As long as you're sure."

"Yeah. Pretty sure."

"You know, maybe I should let you sleep in my bed-"

"God damnit Buffy! Would you just go already?!" he screamed, getting up from the couch.

Buffy stopped, shocked at his outburst. "What-"

"I'm so sick and tired of everyone asking me if I'm okay every hour of every bloody day! Of people offering me their beds or a warm mug of blood. I'm sick and tired of being coddled and babied all the time!"

Buffy's surprised expression quickly turned to one of anger and annoyance. "Fine," she ground out through clenched teeth. She headed to the front door and opened it. "Guys!" she yelled. "We're leaving! Now!"

The SIT's arrived from various places in the house and headed out the door. After the last girl had left, Buffy turned to Spike and said sarcastically, "Have fun here with Andrew."

"HEY!" Andrew shouted from the kitchen.

Buffy ignored him and left the house, slamming the door behind her. As Buffy headed down the stairs after the girls, she whispered to herself, "I'm sorry I care so damn much."

Spike didn't hear her. He simply sighed and collapsed on the couch, resting his head in his hands. "There. She won't worry about me again for a long time."

Spike groaned as the pounding in his head intensified. He lay himself out on the couch, grabbing the remote from the floor. Maybe a good movie would help take his mind off things…

* * * * * * * * * * * *

TBC