For Disclaimer et al, please see Chapter 1

Angel was brooding.

Not that this was new, because it wasn't, or that it was different, because it was generally the same. But it was something that Cordelia, this Cordelia, had to learn to work around.

When Angel was brooding, you didn't bring up the topic of broodiness. When Angel was brooding, you did not ask too many questions. When Angel was brooding, you did not interrupt him. You did not suggest he get out. You did not offer him blood.

And you definitely, definitely, didn't try to implement your Grand Evil Plan.

Which sucked. Immensely.

So instead, Not!Cordelia glared at Angel's closed office door. She contemplated her next move. Having decided that telling Angel the things he'd done in his past were unforgivable had been a big mistake, she was trying to come up with ways to correct this.

After all, she had been going for 'throw him off his game' not 'send him sulking into a locked room'. It was a slight miscalculation. One for which she was paying dearly for.

"So then this Uzokk demon came out of the restroom, and I still couldn't tell if it was for guys or gals, because the species is asexual and have no gender!"

Lorne was trying to lighten the mood by telling anecdotes of his experiences in show biz. Not!Cordelia was not impressed in the slightest, but had to pretend to be. She forced a foreign smile, a little like a grimace and a lot like constipation.

Fred and Lorne glanced at each other. Something was still wrong with Cordy. She'd come out of her room the day before, explained that she was just a little traumatised and that once she had worked out the horrors she'd seen, she was fine. But it was clear that their usually perky friend was not of the fine.

"Hey Cordy," Fred offered, trying to draw out a glimpse of the old, less grumpy Cordelia, "you wanna go shopping? I saw these shoes you'd just die for!"

Ugh, I hate shopping… Cordelia thought.

"Ugh, you know I hate shopping!" Not!Cordelia whined, taking her cue from the person trapped inside their shared body.

The expressions of horror and deep concern that spread across Fred and Lorne's faces told Not!Cordelia that she had been duped. For that, the girl would pay.

Inside, Cordelia felt like she was burning as the demon that had invaded her body turned its anger on her. Intense pain coursed through her being and she screamed, though no one but the body snatcher could hear her.

'That's what you get for trying to trick me, foolish human,' it whispered maliciously.

Fuck you… Cordelia ground out. But the invader only laughed at her. You know, I'd really like to put a name to that evil laugh.

There was silence for a moment, and Cordelia waited as the other being existing within her body worked at translating its existence into words. It was chaos. It was hatred. It was…death.

'That's right,' it said, with what Cordy could only describe as glee, 'you know my name. The half-breeds call me Master; the true demons call me Father; and humans? They call me many names. But I prefer…Nosferatu.'

Well, that was unexpected.

****

The smell of pancakes woke Spike up from an otherwise peaceful sleep. He stretched out his aching limbs and noticed that his wrists weren't chained to the wall. Spike frowned as he sat up in the cot and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to remember what had happened last night that Buffy had forgotten to shackle him…

She said she wanted to give us a chance.

Spike fell off the small bed as he realized with a shock that Buffy had fallen asleep with him that night, wrapped securely in his arms. She hadn't shackled him because she'd never even thought about it.

My dream…my nightmare. That can't happen again. No. I'll wake up and she'll be dead and it'll be all my fault…

The image of her lying cold and lifeless beside him, pieces of her scalp torn from her head in his First-induced frenzy, flashed before his eyes. I can't let that happen.

Slowly he climbed up the basement steps, every movement drawing him closer and closer to his beloved Buffy.

****

Buffy felt wonderful. Like a weight had been taken off her shoulders, she practically danced across the kitchen, scooping pancakes onto plates that were then quickly snatched up and stuffed into the mouths of her waiting housemates.

The orange juice was fresh squeezed, the room was illuminated with light shining through the new semi-translucent curtains (so Spike can come upstairs during the day), and she had slept better than she had in months.

Finally, her life was starting to fall into place.

She smiled broadly when Dawn flitted into the kitchen, sneaking a pancake off the table, pouring syrup onto it and then rolling the pancake like a burrito and stuffing it in her mouth.

"Hungry this morning?" she asked her sister as she waltzed past and kissed her forehead.

Dawn scrunched her face up and stared at her sister, watching as she happily began running water in the sink and drizzling dishwashing liquid into it.

"Whaf uh wiffooo rooray?" she asked.

"Huh?" Buffy said.

Dawn swallowed. "I said: What's up with you today? You're super happy. Not that it's a bad thing, but it is…unusual."

A tired-looking Willow squeezed past Andrew and Amanda, both of which were arguing over Dungeons & Dragons battle strategies. Slipping into the stool next to Dawn, she contemplated her best friend as well.

"Um, maybe I missed something, but when did we get a new Buffybot?"

Buffy gave Willow her most Slayer-y glare while Dawn snickered behind her hand.

"Can't I be in a good mood?" Buffy demanded. Dawn smiled wickedly at her while Willow's face reflected deep concern.

Buffy sighed. "Okay, so I haven't exactly been Happy Buffy lately, but I'm feeling great this morning. Do you mind if I enjoy it?"

"It's definitely good to see Happy Buffy again, and can she make an appearance more often? Cuz Grumpy Buffy and Slayer Buffy aren't healthy," Willow replied.

Buffy smiled in response and began washing the dishes. Dawn slid her plate and fork into the soapy water before running upstairs to get ready for school. Willow rose from the island and took up a towel.

"Can I ask what's put you in such a good mood?"

Buffy placed a plate in the witch's hands before answering. "Earlier this week Jade had one of those visions she was telling us about. She says she saw me and Spike, in the - in the bathroom."

Willow nodded that she understood and to keep going.

"We talked about it a bit, and I realized that I have feelings for Spike." She glanced at her friend. "I told him I want to try again."

The plate nearly slipped from Willow's grip as Buffy said this, her eyes widening to comic proportions, but she kept her mouth shut.

"I know it seems a little crazy," Buffy admitted, turning to face Willow, "but I feel like this is what I was supposed to do all along. I mean, look at me! I'm so happy this morning - I haven't felt like this since before Mom died. I feel like I found a part of me that was missing…that I'd lost a long time ago and didn't even know I needed."

Willow understood. She really did. It didn't take much to remind her of the devastation she'd felt after Tara's death. In fact, she really wasn't over it yet. But she was moving on, trying new things, and it was helping. So she could understand Buffy's need for companionship, but - why Spike?

"Well, i-it does seem…sudden, but, if that's what makes you happy -"

"It really is, Will," Buffy interrupted.

"- then I'm happy for you."

Buffy squealed in delight and threw her arms around Willow's neck, her soapy hands clinging to her best friend's pyjama top. Willow slowly put her arms around Buffy, eventually leaning into a hug she had craved for months.

'Maybe we can start over too,' she thought to herself. When Buffy finally pulled away she had a huge grin on her face that spread like wildfire to her own. The two women were still smiling at each other when Spike opened the basement door.

Willow noticed how Buffy's eyes grew brighter and her skin flushed slightly at the appearance of the vampire. If anything was going to prove to her that Buffy was making the right decision, there it was.

"I'll, uh, be upstairs if you need me. Helping Dawn get ready. Um, for school. Which you need to get ready for too. So I'll go. Now." Willow finished her ramble by giving Spike a little wave 'hello' and darting out of the room.

"Hey," Buffy greeted.

"Hey," Spike replied. He picked up Willow's dropped towel and began where she had left off. Buffy smiled radiantly up at him and he momentarily forgot why he had come upstairs in the first place.

"Buffy," he began, and she looked at him expectantly, open eagerness in her expression.

Taking a deep breath, he began what would most likely be the most difficult conversation of his unlife. "We need to talk."

"'Bout what?" she asked, handing him dishes as she cleaned them.

"About last night," he ventured and visibly flinched when she glanced sharply at him.

"What about last night?" she asked softly, the fear in her voice undisguised and painful to his ears.

"What happened last night…it can't happen again."

In her shock, the glass she was washing slipped from her hands and broke against the side of the sink. The shards disappeared beneath the frothy bubbles, and she turned slowly towards him.

"Why not," Buffy demanded, a hard edge to her tone as she fought back the urge to punch him. It made no sense for him to be breaking up with her! He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and he'd always been the one chasing after her stylish yet affordable skirts and worshipping the ground her almost-Guccis walked on.

Who the hell did he think he was trying to put boundaries on their relationship!?

"Because you didn't chain me up, that's why!" he practically shouted back.

"What, you wanted kinky sex last night? Well, sorry, but when I said 'start over' I meant from the beginning."

Even though Spike could see the raw pain in her eyes, his own flashed yellow as her anger riled his demon and threatened to come to the fore.

Why can't this woman ever have a civil conversation?!

"That's not what I meant and you know it! I'm talking about the fact that the other night I dreamt that I'd killed you in my sleep, and I can't let that happen. We can't be close like that until the First is out of my head, and that means that I need to be kept under lock and key, especially when you're not around to stop me if I'm not in control."

"I was there," she replied, her anger already dissipating. "I wouldn't have let you hurt me."

"While you were sleeping? Good luck with that. Let me know how that works for you. Oh, wait. You'll be dead!"

"Is that what this is about? You think I can't trust you?"

Spike tossed the slightly damp towel on the counter and ran both hands through his hair. "Have you not listened to a bloody word I've ever said? You can trust me. I love you, I would never hurt you."

He paused. "It's not me you have to worry about though, is it?"

Her lips pursed adorably as she mulled over what he'd said.

"So, you're not breaking up with me?"

Mouth dropping open, eyes staring disbelievingly at her, his expression could only be described as 'gawking'. "What the hell gave you that idea, love?"

"Hm, let's see. Try: 'Last night can't happen again'?"

"Which I swiftly followed up with 'Until the First is out of my head'. And - hey, wait a minute." He cocked his head to the side. "So, there's really an 'us' to break up?"

Buffy smiled shyly at him. "I thought that was kind of assumed."

"Are we…dating? A couple? What do you want to call this."

She shrugged and began running her thumbnail along the edge of the formica countertop. "I dunno. But we have to call it something soon because I just told Willow."

"That's why Red was acting all weird." He stepped towards her, close enough so that she could smell him, cigarettes, a little bit of her, and that musky smell that was only him. "You gonna tell the others?"

She turned the tables on him, using his own mode of distraction to make him the one to swoon. Leaning in towards him she ran her hands up his arms and locked her wrists around his neck. Pressing her body against his she felt him tense and watched with feminine satisfaction as his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, the first sure signs of his arousal.

"I don't want to tell them just yet. We're still kinda new and I think if we just told, say, Willow and Dawn, that would be enough for now."

"Yeah," he muttered huskily, drawing her a little closer to him. Abruptly she pulled away from his embrace and smiled coquettishly at him when he glared at her.

"Do you like the new curtains? I put them up this morning." He glanced at them before reaching into the sink to gather the broken glass that lay hidden on the bottom.

"You just did that so that I'll start making breakfast," he teased gently.

"You? Cook? I'd rather not experience that, thank you very much."

"Hey, I can cook! You don't live for over a hundred years and not pick up a thing or two," he retorted. She opened the garbage can for him so he could dump the glass in it.

"But you don't need to eat food," she rationalized.

"She's right you know," Dawn added as she made her way into the kitchen. "You'll have to explain that whole 'digesting human food' thing to us some day."

The blondes glanced at each other sheepishly before stepping a little further apart. The action wasn't lost on the youngest Summers.

"Are you two a thing?" she demanded.

"Uh…" Spike began, but Buffy stayed him with a hand on his arm.

"Yes, Dawnie. Spike and I are a 'thing'."

"Cool," the teen replied. "We've got to go to school now, Buffy. I'll let you guys say goodbye." With a wink, she headed out the front door.

Buffy turned to Spike. "I guess I need to lock you up, huh?"

"Just remember," he said, taking one of her hands in his own, "you're doing this for me too."

He lead her by the hand down the basement steps until she paused halfway down.

"Boyfriend," she said.

"What?"

"I want to call you my boyfriend," she replied.

Buffy leaned towards him and captured his lips with her own. Pressing a gentle hand to the small of her back he pulled her closer. They kissed lazily on the steps for a moment until an impatient horn sounded and they pulled away.

"Dawn's waitin'" he whispered.

"Yeah," she replied. "I guess I'd better hurry up and lock my boyfriend in the basement."