AN: Really sorry for the extended absence. Exams and coursework are more important than fanfic y'know? But I managed to get this done. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER SIX

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Buffy heaved herself abord the boat in time to see Spike brush rudely past the fisherman and sit down to inspect something in his hands. She ignored him for the moment and looked at the old man who had helped them. "Thank you so much," she said gratefully.

"Oh, glad I could help." The man smiled knowingly as he started the boat. "Out for a romantic walk and lost track of time, eh?"

She tried to smile but it came out as a grimace. "Is there a word more emphatic than no?" Why was she always getting paired with Spike? Buffy shuddered daintily.

The guy was still looking at her expectantly and she just couldn't think of another plausible reason to be out on the beach at night. Damn!

"Come on now... dear," Spike called from his seat, smirk firmly in place. "He won't judge us!"

Buffy glared as he turned to the fisherman. "Ours is a forbidden love." he informed him seriously.

The man nodded understandingly at the Slayer. "Your folks don't approve of him?"

Before she could reply Spike burst in. "Oh no, her mum loves me. It's *my* family who don't approve. Ya see, Buffy here's got herself a reputation for- "

"That's enough, Spike!" Buffy cried with barely contained fury, really not wanting to know what unflattering scenario he'd dream up for her next.

She went over and sat down next to him, intent on threatening him into behaving, when she noticed something in his hands. She snatched it away and held it up to inspect it. "Where did you-"

"Hey!" the fisherman cried indignantly. "That's my wallet!"

...Were they going to make a bad impression on everyone they met this evening?

Buffy slowly turned to Spike "You didn't."

Spike shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. Evil, remember?

She jumped up, handing the wallet back to it's rightful owner immediately. "Oh God... I'm so sorry." she stammered, and spared a glance at Spike, sprawled casually in his seat and not bothered in the slightest by the situation. "Kleptomania... it's a problem he has. We're getting him the help he needs."

The fisherman took back his wallet and coldly turned back to steering the boat. "Let's just get you to the docks, eh?"

Buffy bit her lip and sat back down. "That's how you repay him for saving our lives?" she hissed angrily.

Spike quirked a brow. "No... it's how I repay him for saving *your* life." he said, as if it were obvious. "I wouldn't've drowned."

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They arrived at the docks in what was surely record time, and were all but kicked off the boat by their now very hostile saviour.

"So... where now?" Spike said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He decided he needed to get out more, because ruining the Slayer's evening was turning out to be the most fun he'd had in a while.

Buffy looked down at her wet and dirty clothing. "I go home. It's closer to the campus from here and I *have* to get out of these clothes."

Spike froze in sudden apprehension. "I'm not going to your house."

"What? Why not?" Buffy was indignant until she remembered who she was talking to. "I mean... good! And I hate you anyway! ...But unfortunately, you have to go where I do." She yanked him forward.

...But what was wrong with her house?

She was quiet as they walked, wracking her brain for possible reasons for his inexplicable refusal. Not that she cared or anything. As if!

"You lived in an abandoned factory!" she exclaimed, "My house is a *palace* compared to what you're used to!"

"Never said it wasn't, Slayer!"

They fell into silence once more, crossing a dark street.

"You've always been made welcome in my home!" Buffy cried, unable to let it go.

"Yeah, I know." he said smugly, inspecting his nails.

She huffed. "Well, what's wrong with it?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "You really wanna know?"

"Yes!"

"...Really?"

"Spike!"

"Alright..." He leaned in close. "Y'see, that time I came back last year and I visited your mum, she made me hot chocolate."

Buffy put her hands on her hips, unimpressed. "So? My mom makes good hot chocolate!"

Spike patted his pockets for a cigarette and shrugged. "I suppose so. It's just that..." He attempted to change the subject. "Did you know she visits the Watcher's house?"

Buffy frowned. Since she'd left home to live on campus she had to admit she didn't know what her mom got up to these days, apart from working. "No. Why?" Then again, did she *want* to know why? The idea of Giles and her mom... eew.

Spike chuckled at the look on her face. "I don't think it's like that, pet. I reckon she just gets lonely."

Buffy shook her head, confused. "And what? What does this have to do with avoiding my house? And hot chocolate?"

He sighed in resignation. "Every. Single. Time your mum sees me she forces more bleeding hot chocolate down my throat! She brings it over daily in a sodding thermos!" He turned on her in frustration. "Have you told your mum that vamps live on *blood*? Cause I think she might be confused."

Buffy stared. He was actually serious!. She couldn't help it - she started laughing.

"It's not funny!" Spike pouted. "I'm sick of the bloody stuff! And if I go in there-" he pointed as the house came into view, "-She'll try and give me some more because she thinks I like it, and I'll have to pretend do, because she's the only one of you lot that treats me halfway decent!"

William the Bloody didn't want to hurt her mom's feelings? How... odd. It'd be sweet if it were anyone but Spike, but it *was* him so Buffy decided it was definitely odd. But in a good way, cause if he was ever mean to her mom he'd pay bigtime.

She was spared having to answer him because they reached the door, and not having her key she rang the doorbell.

A wary Joyce opened the door a crack (you had to be careful after sunset in Sunnydale), but when she saw who it was she beamed and opened it wide.

"Buffy honey! And Spike! How've you been?"

"Good!" chirped Buffy.

"Better." said Spike dryly.

"Oh..." murmured Joyce sympathetically. Then she brightened. "I bet I know what'll cheer you up..."

Spike's eyes widened in fear, making Buffy grin as she took off her wet shoes. "Have fun!" she sing-songed as she disappeared upstairs.

Joyce smiled and patted his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "Come on. But take off your shoes - you'll track water through to the kitchen."

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Buffy entered the kitchen clean and dry just as Joyce was serving the hot chocolate.

Her mother sent her a smile. "Hi honey, what took you so long?"

Buffy shrugged, "I was hiding our valubles." At her mother's confused look she raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Immoral, souless creature in our house?"

Spike snorted derisively and Joyce frowned at her daughter. "Don't be rude, Buffy. Spike's our guest."

"But mom..." Buffy felt she was entitled to whine. Her mom had never been so nice to Angel, *not* that there was any comparison! Stupid Spike.

She felt a bit better after witnessing the queasy expression on his face at the *huge* mug of cocoa that was placed in front of him, followed by an abundance of marshmallows, of course.

"Mmmm." He tried to sound enthusiastic, really. He looked up at Buffy hopefully. "You all dry and ready, Slayer? We should be off then, eh? Gotta get me back to Rupert and all."

Buffy grinned wickedly. "Spike, it's okay. We can stay until we've finished our drinks." She took a sip from her own mug, savouring it. "Yum... mom, you're the best."

Joyce smiled, stroking her daughter's hair affectionately before busying herself washing dishes. "Thanks dear."

Buffy glanced at Spike, who was glowering at her. She smiled sweetly. "Spike, pass me a spoon would you?"

His jaw clenched angrily, and sparing a look at Joyce to make sure she didn't see, he flung one at her hard, knowing she'd catch it yet really wishing it would hit her in her smug little face, chip be damned.

Buffy caught it of course, and calmly used it to stir her cocoa. "Mom," she called petulantly, "Spike threw a spoon at me."

"Oh, real mature!" Spike hissed venomously, pasting on an innocent smile as Joyce turned around.

"Is that true?" Buffy nodded at the same time as Spike shook his head. Joyce sighed. Those two... "Spike, I won't have any aggressive cutlery passing in my house, is that clear?

He looked sheepish, ducking his head. "Yeah."

"And Buffy? Nobody likes a tell-tale, dear."

Buffy's mouth dropped open, and Spike sniggered.

Joyce watched them, somewhat amused. "I mean really. How old are you two?"

Buffy pursed her lips, staring into her nearly empty mug and trying to ignore the laughing vampire. Eventually she looked up and smiled at him spitefully. "Drink up Spikey, it's gonna get cold."

He poked suspiciously at the melting blobs of marshmallow in his mug and the urge to laugh miraculously faded.

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TBC.....

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AN: That stupid "Joyce makes hot chocolate for Spike" cliché that happens so frequently in fics I've read bugs the hell outta me - can you tell? Dunno why... guess I have issues.

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