The rain had been falling steadily for over two hours, blocking out the sun and turning the world into a dismal, gray place. Buffy had asked him not to leave his room; she didn't want him to upset little Joyce. Spike wanted to know why Joyce couldn't stay in her room, so he could at least watch some telly. She didn't even have any books for him to read to keep his mind occupied. He would have happily welcomed any distractions from thoughts of her.

But there was nothing, so memories and images surrounded him. Buffy slaying. Buffy underneath him. Buffy angry. Buffy smiling. Buffy stroking Dawn's hair in en effort to comfort both of them. Buffy in.

*** .Angel's arms. There she was, huddled against him, her face still wet with tears. Spike froze for a moment, then took slow, silent steps towards them so that he could be close enough to hear what they were saying.

Joyce's death hit him hard. He couldn't see Buffy the night Joyce had died, because she was surrounded by friends and family. In an effort to help, he went patrolling for her. He took out his rage and sadness on the unsuspecting demon population of Sunnydale. He worked tirelessly from dusk to dawn, and then stumbled home, barely beating the sun's rays before he collapsed in a weary heap in his crypt.

He couldn't attend the funeral, and that hurt. He liked Joyce, would go so far as to say he loved her like he had loved his own mum. She was a good lady. She was a Lady. He wanted to pay his respects to her, but decided it was better late than never. He thought by the time he made it to Joyce's grave, Buffy would be home with Dawn. He didn't expect her to keep a graveside vigil.

He certainly didn't expect her to keep a graveside vigil with Angel. He wasn't surprised Angel had come, but could you blame him for hoping that Buffy would allow him to comfort her? And maybe he could take comfort in her?

"I can stay in town as long as you want me," Angel offered, and Spike scowled. That was big of him, wasn't it? He could stick around if the heart broken girl needed him. He could be seen as the Big Hero, sacrificing his own precious time to make her feel better. It didn't matter to the Slayer that Spike would never make such an offer because Spike would never leave her in the first place. "How's forever? Does forever work for you?"

Oh. God. Spike didn't wait around to hear anymore. He just didn't need that on top of everything else. He turned quickly and melted into the shadows of the cemetery, dark and furious.

He didn't believe that Buffy loved him.yet. But he thought that given enough time, she would. Spike growled. Fuck this shit. He was the Big Bad, he didn't need to mourn over a woman, or mope over her daughter. He needed to kill something. He needed to tear off heads and rip out throats. He needed to wrap guts around necks. He needed a good brawl. Spike stormed into the night, looking for trouble, and maybe later, a stiff drink.

He did his best to quiet the small voice in the back of head, wailing in pain and anger. He could give her forever, if only she would let him.

*** "Buffy, can I have hotdogs for dinner?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we had hot dogs for dinner last night," she explained patiently as she prepared the green salad.

"But I like hot dogs," she said, sticking her lower lip out. She was only seconds from stomping her foot.

"I know, Joyce, but you can't eat them every night."

The girl seemed to accept this, and ceased her chatting for several minutes. She stared moodily out the window, watching the water streaks slide down the glass. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, and Buffy left her to them as she continued to make dinner.

"Buffy?" She said presently.

"What, dear?"

"Spike is a vampire?"

"Yes."

"Why isn't he trying to kill us?"

Buffy blinked, and considered her answer. How many times had he threatened to rip her.

*** ".bloody throat out! That's what I should do," Spike muttered to himself as he kicked around the empty whiskey bottles littering the floor.

"Whose?" Buffy asked softly from the doorway.

Spike looked up and scowled at her, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Why? Has Angel left already? The Poofter didn't even have the manners to come and say goodbye."

"Yes."Buffy started.

"Slayer, go home to your kid sis," Spike interrupted. "She's going to need you."

"She wanted to stay with Willow and Tara," Buffy explained.

"Then go see the Witches," Spike turned his back to her and pretended to look for a bottle that wasn't so empty.

"I wanted..wanted to patrol."

"Don't worry about it. I took care of it. Go get some sleep," the words were kind, but his tone was not. It was clear that he wanted her to leave, but Buffy didn't want to go. She felt numb, and almost like she was dreaming. The world looked all wrong. The colors were bleeding into each other. Shapes lost definition. She seemed so distant from everything, and almost like she was drowning. She couldn't be by herself tonight, and she didn't know how to be with Dawn. She wasn't strong enough for both of them. Not tonight.

She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be in the room where her mother died. She didn't want to smell the fading traces of her mother's shampoo and perfume. She didn't want to go into the kitchen where her mother would never cook another meal. She didn't want to be surrounded by memories and reminded of all that was lost. The only place that left was Spike. He could be her safe haven. He could take care of her tonight. And tomorrow she would take on the new role of mother, and she would be strong and face Glory.

"I want to be with you tonight," she finally admitted. She still had her pride though, and if he asked her to leave again, she would. Slayers were meant to be alone, after all, and she could survive. It would just hurt.

Spike turned around, and she finally a good look at his face. He had taken a pounding, and one of eyes was swollen shut. There was dry blood on the side of his face. His shirt was tattered. But under the physical wounds, she saw raw pain on his face that had nothing to do with a fight. She could see the war in his eyes, but she was confused by it. Why would he be angry with her?

She realized almost immediately why he was angry. It must have been Angel. She couldn't deal with Spike's hurt pride tonight, and she wouldn't fight with him over it. If he was going to make a deal out of it, she would just leave.

He looked at her for what seemed like hours. She stared back, her face void of emotion as she felt the exhaustion over take her. Without a word, Spike stepped across to her and took her in his arms, resting her head on his chest.

"Slayer, have you had a good cry?"

She shook her head.

"Come downstairs and I'll take care of you, luv."

She allowed Spike to lead her down to this bed, and allowed him to undress her. She may not want him, but she needed him. And no matter how angry he was at her, he could never..

*** ".hurt you," Buffy assured the child as she placed dinner in front of her.

"Why not?"

"There are a lot of reasons." Buffy paused, wondering how much she should tell the little girl. "Are you scared of him?"

"A little bit," she admitted.

"Would talking to him help? You could ask him questions."

Joyce hesitantly nodded, "But I don't want to go by myself."

"We'll go upstairs when you finish eating," Buffy promised.

Buffy watched Joyce eat, but ignored her own dinner. She hadn't been very hungry lately, and she couldn't sleep last night knowing Spike was in the next room. She felt an undeniable draw to him, and all she could think about was the ten wasted years. She had been lonely. It was hard enough to have a relationship with somebody when she was just the Slayer, introduce a small child, and the available, datable men pool shrunk considerably.

She went on a few dates, and dated one man for a whole year. But they were just making time, and neither one of them were ready for any real commitment. Shortly after they stopped dating, he got engaged to a nice girl from Texas. Good for him. She suspected that one of the reasons she was so worried about Spike was because she was excited to have somebody to talk to again. Dawn wasn't around much, and Xander had a life of his own.

"I'm done," Joyce announced.

Buffy inspected her plate, "You have salad left."

"I don't like green stuff."

Buffy sighed; Joyce didn't like the green stuff. "I'll let you get away with that tonight, but tomorrow you're eating all your vegetables."

"Why?"

"Because growing girls need their vegetables to grow big and strong."

"As strong as you?"

For an instant, Buffy imagined how horrible it would be if Joyce was called as a Slayer. "Yeah," she said softly, "like me."

Buffy picked her up and carried her upstairs. She knocked on the door, "Spike? Can we come in?"

Spike didn't answer immediately. "Sure," he finally said.

Buffy entered, balancing Joyce on her hip. "Joyce wants to talk to you," she explained.

Spike was sprawled on his bed, but he sat up and moved over to allow his guests to sit beside him. In truth, he wasn't averse to talking to them.

"Well?" Spike prompted.

"Can I see your Grrr face?" Joyce asked shyly. In that moment she looked and sounded so much like Willow that it made Buffy's heart ache. Spike looked affected too as he glanced up and caught Buffy's eyes.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Buffy looked concern, "I don't want you to be frightened."

"I won't get scared," she promised.

Buffy sighed and nodded, and Spike shrugged. He let the bones of his face adjust and his fangs distend. He flashed his golden eyes at the silent girl, sitting rigid in Buffy's arms. She seemed both fascinated and horrified, and Buffy and Spike waited patiently for her ultimate reaction. Buffy was more apprehensive, terrified for the child. But Spike smiled, flashing his fangs. He could hear her heartbeat steadily. The girl was just taking a few moments to adjust, but she wasn't scared.

"Can I touch you?" She finally asked.

Spike obligingly leaned forward so she could reach him with her short arms, and she tentatively touched the ridges on his forehead, and then quickly pulled her hand away. She looked up at Buffy, as if expecting an explanation from her of some sort.

"I think it's time for your bath," Buffy said softly. She expected Joyce to resist, but she allowed herself to be led out of the room. Spike watched her go with interest. She was a brave child. Obviously had Willow's brains too. He wondered if she also had Willow's magic ability. If so, he hoped she took after Glinda the Good Witch. Spike knew that Willow never really understood that magic had consequences. Consequences that were far reaching, and that he was still feeling the effects of.