Chapter 7

Buffy trudged through the first snow of winter. It hadn't snowed at all last year and she'd been told that to have deep snow in early December was almost unheard of. When it had started snowing the day before, Buffy was intrigued, having only seen snow before on skiing trips. But she had to admit that driving into the city centre this morning for lectures hadn't been fun and she really wasn't looking forward to the drive home.

She had to laugh when she got back to the car to find a miniature snowman sitting on the bonnet, complete with pebbles for eyes, a stub of pencil for a pipe and a little origami paper hat on its head. She shook her head and smiled as she read the now familiar note that this time was scrawled on the remaining space.

Come on up.

Kettle's on.

-- Spike.

It had become a familiar message over the last month and Buffy couldn't deny her sense of disappointment on the few days when the note had been missing. She wasn't sure what it was about her time with Spike that she looked forward to. He was usually abrasive and more often than not they ended up arguing, but at the same time she never felt that she had to watch herself round him. She could give as good as she got and never had to worry about him taking offence, the way Riley did.

That stopped her train of thought. Why was she comparing Spike to Riley? There was no comparison. Riley was sweet and lovely and adored her. And he was her boyfriend and Spike could never compare to that. She would never want to compare Spike to Riley. Spike was a friend. That was all, just a friend. And a friend of Riley's as well. Riley, who was her boyfriend.

She shook off the train of thought before it got too confusing and went over to the door of Spike's flat. It was ajar, so she pushed it open and climbed the stairs.

"Hello?"

"Up 'ere pet!" Spike's voice travelled down the stairwell. "I've just put the kettle on and I've made some toast. Thought you might be hungry."

"You know, you really shouldn't leave the door open. I could have been anyone."

"Nah." Spike appeared at the top of the stairs, plate in one hand and a couple of steaming mugs in the other. "Knew it was you – saw you get to the car."

"Oh." She accepted the proffered mug gratefully and warmed her hands round it as she followed Spike into his room, taking her now customary place under the duvet at the foot of his bed.

They sat there for a moment but Buffy broke the silence.

"You going to the Christmas Ball this year?"

"Nah, pro'bly not." He shrugged. "It's usually crap anyway. Will be going to the summer one though – that's usually a laugh."

"You're not going? I thought you would have been flicking through your little black book for a willing date." Buffy grinned at him over the rim of her mug.

"Oh, yeah, 'cos I've got 'em lining up round the block, right?" Spike asked sardonically.

"Well, I thought..." Buffy looked surprised.

"Nah." Spike rallied slightly. "Not that they wouldn't be if I'd let them, of course."

"Oh, of course." Buffy agreed trying not to smile.

"It's just that, well, I haven't really much felt like dating since Dru."

"Dru?" Buffy frowned as she tried to remember if he'd ever mentioned the girl before.

"My ex. Don't talk about her much these days."

"Well, if you don't want to..." Buffy was intrigued, but she didn't want to pry into her friend's life.

"It's okay. She was my everything. We were together almost from the day we started uni here. Lived together last year. I thought everything was perfect, couldn't be better. I thought we'd always be together." His brow darkened. "I was wrong. Found out at the end of last year that all the time she'd been cheating on me. Carrying on with all kinds of different guys. And you know the worst of it? Everyone knew. Everyone except me! And no-one saw fit to tell me!"

"Spike." Buffy shuffled down the bed and took Spike into her arms. "It must have been awful for you." She stroked his head as she felt him sob slightly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Spike sniffed a little and raised his head to look at her, wiping a tear from his cheek. "It's okay. I guess I needed that really, bit of a rant y'know." He forced a smile then frowned. "But if you tell anyone about this girly crying thing..."

"I know, I know - you'll be forced to kill me." She smiled at him and let her arms drop but remained lying beside him on the bed.

"Exactly. It'd hurt the image." He nodded resolutely.

"Image?" She laughed at him. "What image?"

"Oi! Less of that please, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Her laughter subsided into a small chuckle, "Guess I just know you too well for the whole leather and black denim thing to wear with me. You're just a cuddly puppy." She mussed his hair playfully, leaning on one elbow over him.

"God! Why do I put up with you girl?" Spike groaned, pushing her away from him and onto her back on the bed as he desperately tried to restore some order to his now chaotic hair.

"Because I'm so wonderful." Buffy said matter-of-factly, hazel eyes twinkling with amusement as she looked up at him from where she was lying.

"Right, of course, how could I ever forget?" He replied derisively.

They were still lying next to each other on the bed, amiably chatting three hours later when Spike looked up at the clock on his wall.

"Pet? It's getting late. Not that I want to kick you out or anything, but isn't Riley usually waiting for you to get home."

Buffy shrugged. "He can wait. He knows where I'll be so he won't worry. I'll just tell him we lost track of time."

Spike frowned and looked at the girl snuggled under his duvet.

"Is everything all right between you two?"

"Of course. Everything's fine. Why shouldn't it be?" She asked. She seemed to be genuinely surprised that he felt the need to ask.

"Well, you do seem to be spending more and more time over here lately. When you first started coming round it was for a quick cuppa and then you just had to get home because he'd be worried, but now you always seem reluctant to leave."

"Everything's fine. Really." She suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if this was the first time that she'd realised that she was lying next to him, in his bed, under the covers. "But you're right. I guess I should be going."

With that she sprang out of the bed, slipped on her shoes and hurried out of the flat, still pulling on her jacket. Spike looked after the retreating girl, a look of concern on his face.