Two empty half-gallon tubs of ice cream lay on the floor next to the bed, along with two sticky spoons. A sigh echoed through the crypt, and Buffy sat up. She groaned and placed a hand on her stomach.

Ok, note to self, 'never eat a whole half-gallon of ice cream that fast, or at one time, ever again.' She thought, rubbing at her eyes.

She felt Spike sit up next her and turned to face him, wondering how exactly he had ended up lying down next to her in the first place. She shrugged the thought off, and held her head, trying to get rid of the cold, burning sensation that could only have been caused by the quick consumption of a cold foodstuff.

Or in English, Brian Freeze.

It was very common in teens when they were drinking slurpies and stuff, but Buffy really hadn't felt one as bad as this since high school, when she Xander and Willow had had a slushy drinking contest. Let's just say they never did that again.

She yawned, and rubbed her eyes again, wondering why she was so tired. It wasn't as if she'd done anything today, she really had no reason to be tired at all.

Spike looked over at Buffy, he was surprised that she hadn't attacked him the minute she'd found out he'd lay down next to her. She really was a weird person though. One minute she hates you, and the next she could care less. Maybe it was a girl thing...?

"Ok pet, it sounds like it stopped raining and it's dark out now, want to go home yet?" he asked her, standing up.

Buffy seemed to consider it for a moment, "Yeah, I need a shower, and sleep. Sleep would defiantly be good. But... how'd you know it stopped raining?"

"I can hear it pet, remember the heightened senses thing?" he asked.

"Right, whatever, let's just get going ok?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Alright then, but you have to promise that you're not going to be up and about until your ankle's better." He said before picking her up.

She glared at him, "Can we see if I can walk before you just pick me up Spike? "Cause you know, I don't think it would be a good idea to have you walk into my house with me in your arms." She told him, and he smirked.

"I think it would be right funny to see the look on your scoobies when that happens." He said chuckling, already picturing what each one of them would look like.

"When it happens? On no Spike, it's not going to happen." She said, pushing against his chest hard and wriggling out of his grasp so he dropped her on the bed again, "First we see if I can walk."

He rolled his eyes at her, but agreed, silently hoping she wouldn't be able to, that way he'd have an excuse to take her home... how'd she put it, oh right, in his arms. He liked the way that sounded. A lot.

Buffy brought Spike out of LaLaland when she fell against him, hissing in pain. He just barely caught her, managing not to fall over himself.

"You ok luv?" he asked, looking at her concerned.

"Fine, just –ah- don't move for a sec, ok?" She told him wincing a bit as she tried to put some weight on her foot again.

Why was this still hurting? Shouldn't it have healed by now? Maybe Spike was right, for once, and she bruised the bone or something like that. That really wouldn't be good. It would mean no patrolling until she was all fixed up, and judging by how she was now, that might take a few days.

Spike looked at her, "Now can I carry you, or have you not gotten it through your dense little head that you can't walk?"

Buffy's brow furrowed, why did he sound like he wanted to carry her home? Was this some kind of sick joke he was playing on her or something?

"Hold on, one more try." She said, pushing off of him, and hopping around on one foot before finally putting the other one on the ground. Almost as soon as she put weight on he injured limb, did she take it off, pain shooting through her leg.

"Ow"

She cursed as Spike came over to her, scooping her up in his arms and looking down at her with an amused smirk, "Give up?"

"I never give up." She said as he made his way over to the ladder.

He looked up, taking a minute to figure out how this was going to work, knowing he would never be able to carry her up that ladder with out one of them falling. Then he looked down at Buffy again.

"You're going to have to climb up the ladder on your own pet, I can't carry you up it without falling myself." He said, gently setting her down.

She sighed, hesitating before beginning to climb up the ladder, not putting any weight on her foot, or at least not trying to, only using one to hop up the rungs. She took it one step at a time, slowly making her way to the top until she finally pulled herself up into the top half of Spike's crypt.

Spike followed her quickly; glad she hadn't fallen in her attempt to climb up.

"Ok Pet, hold on." He said, picking her up once more, and moving t leave the crypt after closing the trap door behind him.

They walked, or rather Spike did, through the cemetery in silence, only occasionally glancing at each other. Neither of them knew what to say that would make this situation any more awkward than it already was.

When hey finally arrived at Buffy's house, Spike opened the door, then hesitated, he didn't know if he was still allowed in the house. He looked down at Buffy.

"Am I... I mean... Can I still go in?" he asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't you be able to?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"Well, seeing as you hate me, I figured you might have revoked the invite or something like that, and I wouldn't be able to get in..." He said, and she frowned.

"Spike, you helped when I was... gone. You took care of Dawn for me, you should know I would trust you enough to allow you in my house, and plus, remember your chip?" she asked, though she knew it didn't matter that he had the chip any more, he would have her trust anyway. And though she hated to admit it, he had earned it.

"Right then," he said, stepping through the doorway, and going upstairs to her bedroom.

Both of them were surprised that Dawn didn't flip out at her when they got there, more importantly, she didn't even make an appearance when that had gotten there. It didn't seem right, then again, Dawn was probably staying at Willow's house instead of alone at home.

Spike set Buffy down on the bed, and looked down at her.

"I suppose you want me to leave now..." he said, then, without waiting for an answer, he turned around and strode to the door.

"Spike wait." She called softly to him, and he turned around to look at her.

"What pet?"

"Would you stay with me...?" she asked him, not exactly wanting to be alone until Dawn came home. Seeing as that could be until tomorrow evening.

When he just stood there looking at her, she tried again, "...please...?"

He shook his head, and then went back over to the bed, grabbing her desk chair, positioning himself at the edge near her nightstand.

"Sure pet, I can, if you want me to."

She smiled briefly, then grabbed a blanket and pulled it over herself. She still had her clothes on, but didn't think it really mattered, and really didn't care. She threw an extra blanket at Spike, who looked at her funny.

"What, don't vampires use blankets?" she asked

"Only sometimes..." he told her, laying the blanket over his lap, "Thanks."

She nodded at him, and laid her head down on the pillows, yawning.

Spike watched her as she fell asleep, wondering what had possessed her to let him stay, or, more importantly, ask him to stay. He figured that maybe she got hit in the head or something; because this was defiantly not something she would do any other day of the week.

He smiled as she sighed in her sleep, regarding everything she was doing, memorizing her movements and how she looked, not thinking he'd ever get a chance to do this again.

Her mouth was slightly open, and she was making noises that sounded like a cross between a moan and a whimper, he really couldn't tell which. Sleeping noises, that's what they were. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyelids were fluttering ever so slightly.

She's dreaming.... Spike thought, God she's cute when she sleeps.... Hm... seems you think she's cute all the time Spike.... Yeah so, that going to kill me?

Spike shook his head clean of his conflicted and thoughts that seemed to talk back to him when he asked questions or just made statements in his head. Maybe he was going crazy. Oh well, he'd get over it; it wasn't as if he actually had long conversations with those voices.

You do too, you twit.

Spike blinked, ok, that was way to weird. He sighed, and continued to watch Buffy as she slept, savoring the moment, really hoping it wasn't the last time he'd get to do it.